PRINCESS.  SUKEY. 


Princess  Sukey 

THE    STORY    OF    A    PIGEON 
AND  HER  HUMAN  FRIENDS 


By 
MARSHALL   SAUNDERS 


"Despite  neither  eats,  birds,  dogs,  nor  any  member  of  the  animal  kingdom, 

for  are  not  all  created  beings  little  brothers  of  the 

earth,  the  air,  and  the  tea  f ' 


m 


NEW    YORK:     EATON    &    MAINS 
CINCINNATI:    JENNINGS   &   GRAHAM 


Copyright,  1905,  by 
EATON  &  MAINS. 


I   DEDICATE  THIS  STORY  TO  ONE  WHO  HAS  SHOWN 
A   KIND   INTEREST   IN   EVERY   LIVING  CREATURE 
ON    MY    FARM— TO   MY  DEAR    BROTHER-IN- 
LAW,   CLARENCE   KING   MOORE,   OF  THE 
UNIVERSITY  OF  ROCHESTER 

MARSHALL  SAUNDERS 
MEADOW   BROOK   FARM 

JANUARY  26,   1905 


LIST  OF  CHAPTERS 


CHAPTER  PACK 

I.  THE  PIGEON  PRINCESS i 

II.  MRS.  BLODGETT'S  OPINION 15 

III.  HAPPY  TIMES 28 

IV.  THE  JUDGE'S  Vow 36 

V.  A  SURPRISE  FOR  THE  JUDGE 58 

VI.  IN  THE  PIGEON  LOFT 74 

VII.  BIRDS  OF  HEAVEN 91 

VIII.  To  ADOPT  OR  NOT  TO  ADOPT 98 

IX.  ANOTHER  SURPRISE  no 

X.  THE  ENGLISH  BOY 124 

XI.  DECEIT  AND  FORGIVENESS 142 

XII.  THE  YELLOW  SPOTTED  DOG 155 

XIII.  HlGBY   AND   THE  OWLS 163 

XIV.  A  CALL  FROM  AIRY 177 

XV.  A  DRIVE  WITH  THE  JUDGE 192 

XVI.  THE  SPOTTED  DOG  AGAIN 203 

XVII.  TITUS  AS  A  PHILANTHROPIST 210 

XVIII.  AIRY'S  SECOND  CALL  ON  THE  JUDGE 219 

XIX.  DALLAS  TAKES  A  HAND  AT  MANAGEMENT..  226 
XX.  THE  CAT  MAN  AND  THE  JUDGE'S  FAMILY..  235 

XXI.  MAFFERTY  UNFOLDS  A  PLOT 248 

XXII.  THE  JUDGE  GETS  A  SHOCK 262 

XXIII.  MRS.  EVEREST  BEGINS  TO  EXPLAIN 275 

XXIV.  THE  EXPLANATION  CONTINUED 286 

XXV.  VISITORS  FOR  THE  JUDGE 299 

XXVI.  THE  ONLY  SON  OF  A  WIDOW 308 

XXVII.  MR.  HITTAKER  CALLS  ON  THE  JUDGE 324 

XXVIII.  THE  JUDGE  REVIEWS  HIS  FAMILY 330 

v 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


PRINCESS  SUKEY Frontispiece 

"  W-w-whew!"  he  said  after  a  time,  "isn't  she  a  beauty 
—a  real  princess ! " Facing  page    32 

"Go  tell  the  servants  that  she  is  found,"  said  the  Judge 
to  Titus Facing  page    91 

"In  the  middle  of  the  hall  stood  the  grinning  colored  boy 
and  the  ugly  yellow  spotted  dog  " Facing  page  204 

"Why  are  you  dressed  like  a  little  boy?"  I  asked. 

Facing  page  292 


VI 


PRINCESS  SUKEY 


CHAPTER  I 
THE  PIGEON  PRINCESS 

DEAR  little  Princess  Sukey  sitting  by  the  fire — 
pretty  little  pigeon — of  what  is  she  thinking  as  she 
dreamily  eyes  the  blazing  wood  ?  If  a  pigeon  could 
review  its  past  life,  what  she  has  of  bird  mind 
would  be  running  back  over  the  series  of  adventures 
that  she  had  ere  she  established  herself  in  this  well 
ordered  household. 

Has  she  any  mentality  of  her  own,  or  are  all 
pigeons  stupid  as  has  been  said  ?  Listen  to  her  story, 
and  judge  for  yourself. 

To  begin  with — she  is  not  a  common  street  pigeon 
like  those  who  are  looking  in  the  window,  and  who 
are  probably  envying  her  the  silk  cushion  on  which 
she  sits,  her  china  bath,  her  lump  of  rock  salt,  and 
her  box  of  seeds.  For  it  is  a  bitterly  cold  day.  The 
wind  is  blowing  fiercely,  the  thermometer  is  away 
below  zero,  and  the  ground  is  covered  with  snow. 
In  summer  these  same  street  pigeons  seem  to  be 
laughing  at  the  pigeon  princess  on  account  of  the  ab- 


2  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

normal  life  that  she  leads,  but  just  now  they  certainly 
would  change  places  with  her. 

The  princess  is  a  Jacobin — a  thoroughbred,  with 
a  handsome  hood  that  nearly  hides  her  head,  a  fine 
mane  and  chain,  and  her  colors  are  red  and  white. 

Her  parents  were  beauties — show  birds  with  per- 
fect points,  and  they  were  owned  by  a  young  pigeon 
fancier  of  the  small  city  of  Riverport,  Maine. 

The  lad's  name  was  Charlie  Brown,  and  he  had 
a  friend  called  Titus  Sancroft,  or,  more  familiarly, 
"Stuttering  Tite,"  from  an  unfortunate  habit  that 
he  had  formed  of  catching  his  breath  at  the  begin- 
ning of  nearly  every  sentence  he  uttered. 

Now,  young  Titus  walked  most  opportunely  into 
Charlie's  pigeon  loft  just  a  day  after  Princess  Sukey 
had  been  hatched. 

Just  before  he  came  in  the  clock  struck  four.  A 
male  pigeon  always  helps  the  female  in  the  work  of 
incubation,  and  bringing  up  the  young  ones.  About 
ten  o'clock  every  morning  the  mother  pigeon  leaves 
her  eggs,  goes  to  get  something  to  eat,  and  walks 
about  the  loft  with  the  other  pigeons — a  pigeon 
rarely  plays;  even  young  ones  are  phlegmatic.  As 
she  comes  off  her  nest  the  male  pigeon  goes  on  and 
sits  there  till  four  in  the  afternoon.  Then  the  female 
returns  for  the  night. 

Well,  the  young  princess  was  a  sickly  pigeon. 
There  had  been  two  sickly  pigeons,  for  usually  two 
eggs  are  laid  at  a  time.  One  had  died,  and  the 
father  Jacobin,  thinking  that  the  young  Sukey  was 
also  going  to  die,  took  her  in  his  beak,  lifted  her 
from  the  nest,  and  gently  deposited  her  on  the  floor 
at  the  other  end  of  the  loft. 


THE  PIGEON  PRINCESS  5 

Finally  the  boy  found  the  man  in  the  attic  super- 
intending some  painters. 

"S-s-see  what  I've  got,  Higby,"  he  said,  opening 
his  palms,  where  he  was  keeping  the  pigeon  warm. 

"A  s-s-squab,"  said  Higby,  "a-a-and  and  an  ugly 
w-w-worm  of  a  thing  it  is." 

"W-w-what  shall  I  do  with  it?"  asked  Titus. 

"W-w-wring  it's  neck,  young  sir,"  said  Higby, 
who  was  much  worried  by  the  painters.  "  'Tis  a 
s-s-sad  world  for  m-m-man,  woman,  or  pigeon." 

"B-but  it's  worth  money,"  said  Titus.  "It's  a 
Jacobin — the  parents  cost  twenty  dollars." 

Higby  looked  at  it  again.  Neither  he  nor  the  lad 
was  much  animated  by  sentiment  in  saving  the  life 
of  a  bird.  Then  he  felt  the  pigeon's  crop. 

"Th-th-there  ain't  nothin'  in  there,  Master  Titus. 
You've  got  to  fe-fe-feed  it  mighty  quick." 

"Y-you  come  help  me,"  said  the  boy. 

"I  ca-ca-can't  leave  these  workmen." 

"I-if  you  don't,"  replied  Titus,  "I'll  tell  my  grand- 
father that  you  seek  me  out  and  talk  to  me.  Then 
he'll  discharge  you." 

Higby  flew  into  a  rage.  As  he  choked  and  splut- 
tered and  stammered  he  stepped  backward.  That 
was  his  way  when  wrestling  for  words,  and  when  he 
at  last  got  his  words  he  struck  one  foot  sharply  on 
the  floor. 

Young  Titus,  on  the  contrary,  always  stopped 
stuttering  when  he  became  deeply  moved  about  any- 
thing, but  in  his  excitement  he  had  formed  the 
habit  of  stepping  forward.  So  if  he  were  talking  to 
Higby  there  was  at  the  same  time  advance  and 
retreat. 


6  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

The  painters  were  nearly  killing  themselves  laugh- 
ing, and  when  Higby  discovered  this  he  shuffled 
downstairs  after  the  boy. 

Titus  led  the  way  to  the  kitchen.  "Mrs.  Blodg- 
ett,"  he  called  to  the  housekeeper,  who  was  directing 
the  maids,  "please  make  me  some  warm  feed  for  this 
pigeon." 

The  housekeeper  stared  at  the  bird.  "O,  law! 
what  a  nasty  little  thing!" 

By  this  time  the  future  little  princess  was  nearly 
dead,  and  Titus  in  dismay  called,  "Hurry  up." 

"Master  Titus,"  she  replied,  snappishly,  "the  girls 
are  preparing  dinner.  You'll  have  to  wait." 

"I  can't  wait,"  returned  the  boy,  angrily,  and  he 
began  to  step  forward.  "Don't  you  see  the  bird's 
dying?  Higby,  you  talk  to  her." 

Titus's  eyes  were  flaming,  and  Higby,  who  was 
at  heart  a  coward,  and  terrified  of  anyone  in  a  real 
rage,  subdued  his  own  disturbed  feelings,  and  in  a 
wheedling  voice  asked  Mrs.  Blodgett  for  just  a  little 
"ro-ro-rolled  oats,"  with  boiling  water  poured  on. 

Mrs.  Blodgett  frowned,  and  grumbled  out  some- 
thing about  having  men  and  boys  in  the  kitchen  at 
mealtimes.  However,  she  drew  out  her  keys  and 
went  to  the  storeroom,  and  in  a  few  minutes  Titus 
and  Higby  were  in  a  corner  of  the  kitchen  with  a 
cup  of  soft  food  before  them,  but  with  nothing  but 
their  clumsy  fingers  to  put  it  in  the  pigeon's  small 
beak. 

The  young  bird  smelt  and  felt  the  food,  and 
nearly  wriggled  out  of  Titus's  grasp  in  trying  to 
get  it. 

"T-t-this  won't  do,"  exclamied  the  boy,  when  she 


THE  PIGEON  PRINCESS  7 

jabbed  her  beak  against  his  hand,  "w-w-we've  got  to 
have  a  feather  or  a  stick." 

Mrs.  Blodgett  gave  them  some  turkey  feathers 
and  some  toothpicks,  and  between  them  they  man- 
aged to  worry  a  little  food  into  the  pigeon's  beak. 

"You  ought  to  h-h-have  a  syringe,"  said  Higby, 
"the  old  birds  fe-fe-feed  their  young  ones  by  putting 
their  b-b-beaks  crosswise  in  their  mouths  to  pu-pu- 
pump  the  food  down." 

"I-I  know,  I've  seen  them,"  replied  Titus.  "You 
just  run  along  to  the  drug  store  and  get  me  one." 

Higby  had  to  go,  and  by  putting  a  rubber  tube 
in  the  pigeon's  beak  they  managed  to  feed  her  pretty 
well. 

When  her  crop  was  quite  round  and  full  Titus 
called  for  a  basket  and  cotton  wool,  and  put  her 
behind  the  kitchen  stove. 

"That  basket  is  mortally  in  the  way,"  said  Mrs. 
Blodgett,  fretfully ;  "it  is  just  in  the  place  where  we 
put  our  plates  to  warm." 

"B-b-blodgieblossom,"  said  the  boy,  cajolingly, 
thrusting  his  arm  through  hers,  "it's  for  your  boy." 

The  housekeeper  gave  in.  When  young  Titus 
called  her  "Blodgieblossom,"  and  said  he  was  her 
boy,  she  would  do  anything  for  him. 

"Mind,  don't  any  of  you  knock  that  basket  over," 
she  said,  turning  frowningly  to  the  maids. 

Titus  was  running  upstairs,  when  suddenly  he 
stopped  and  hurried  back.  They  all  thought  he  had 
come  to  thank  them  for  helping  him,  but  he  had  not. 

"L-l-look  a-here !"  he  said,  sternly,  "If  I  catch  any 
of  you  prattling  to  grandfather  that  I've  got  a 
pigeon  I'll  make  it  hot  for  you." 


8  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

They  all  grinned  at  each  other.  The  Judge  was 
a  good  man,  but  he  was  rather  severe  with  his  grand- 
son when  he  deceived  him. 

The  Judge  did  not  find  out.  He  never  entered  the 
kitchen,  and  the  young  pigeon  grew  and  thrived,  but 
not  behind  the  stove  on  the  plate-warmer,  for  Titus, 
finding  that  her  little  body  was  almost  like  a  furnace 
itself,  appropriated  a  corner  of  one  of  the  big  kitchen 
tables  for  her  basket. 

Young  Titus  and  old  Higby  fed  her  several  times 
a  day.  One  had  to  hold  her,  while  the  other  pushed 
the  food  down  her  throat,  and  cross  enough  the  old 
servant  man  was  when  Titus  would  call  out,  "T-t-the 
goose  hangs  high." 

Titus  did  not  dare  to  say,  "It  is  feeding  time  for 
the  pigeon,  Higby,"  for  the  Judge  might  have  heard, 
and  Titus  feared  that  he  would  be  exceedingly  an- 
noyed if  he  found  out  that  a  bird  was  being  kept 
in  his  house. 

It  was  really  curious  that  such  a  dislike  for  the 
lower  creation  should  have  been  imputed  to  a  really 
benevolent  and  kind-hearted  man  like  Judge  San- 
croft.  True,  he  did  not  care  particularly  for  ani- 
mals. He  had  been  brought  up  in  a  city,  and  he 
had  never  had  any  animals  about  him  but  horses 
and  cows.  He  was  not  actively  fond  of  them,  but 
he  always  saw  that  they  were  well  cared  for.  None 
of  his  children  had  been  fond  of  animals.  Certainly 
he  was  not  the  kind  of  man  to  have  said,  "No,"  if 
any  of  his  young  sons  or  daughters  had  come  to  him 
years  ago  and  said,  "Father,  I  want  a  dog  or  a 
cat." 

However,  his  own  children  were  all  dead,  and  the 


THE  PIGEON  PRINCESS  9 

opinion  had  strengthened  with  years  that  the  Judge 
did  not  care  for  dumb  creatures.  Titus  did  not  know 
that  his  grandfather  would  have  listened  with  dis- 
may to  anyone  who  said  to  him,  "Sir,  you  have  a 
young  grandson  under  your  roof  who  is  pining  for 
pets  such  as  other  boys  have,  and  he  is  afraid  to 
ask  you  for  them." 

The  Judge  was  unmistakably  a  very  good  man. 
His  white  head,  large,  handsome  face,  and  portly 
frame  bore  the  marks  of  good  temper,  sound  judg- 
ment, and  eminent  respectability.  It  was  rather  a 
wonder  that  he  had  not  made  himself  known  as  a 
philanthropist.  However,  he  had  in  early  life  been 
devoted  to  his  profession,  then  he  had  had  much 
trouble  and  bereavement,  and  had  traveled  exten- 
sively, and  then  his  health  had  partly  broken  down, 
and  he  had  resigned  his  judgeship,  given  up  most  of 
the  active  duties  of  life,  and  settled  down  to  a 
sedentary  old  age. 

But  old  age  did  not  come.  Renewed  health  did 
come,  and  at  the  time  when  our  story  opens  the 
somewhat  bewildered  Judge  found  himself  in  the 
position  of  a  man  who  sees  the  map  of  his  life  turned 
upside  down  in  his  hands. 

He  really  had  not  enough  to  do.  He  had  made 
enough  money  to  live  on,  really  more  than  enough, 
but  he  began  to  think  seriously  of  opening  that  long- 
closed  law  office.  He  was  only  restrained  by  a 
question  of  dignity.  He  had  been  so  long  on  the 
bench  that  he  would  hate  to  come  down  to  office 
work  again — and  yet  he  could  not  rust  out.  He 
sighed  sometimes  as  he  thought  of  his  future — 
sighed,  not  knowing  what  responsibilities  Provi- 


io  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

dence  was  preparing  for  him.  Probably  if  he  could 
have  foreseen  he  would  have  sighed  more  heavily. 
However,  the  responsibilities  brought  also  their 
alleviations  with  them. 

Young  Titus  was  not  at  all  like  his  grandfather 
in  appearance.  The  Judge  was  a  large,  rotund, 
handsome  man,  always  carefully,  even  exquisitely, 
dressed.  Titus  was  slim  and  dark,  loose-jointed 
and  always  awry.  His  collar  was  shady,  his  clothes 
tumbled.  He  was  not  in  one  single  outward  respect 
like  the  dignified  white-haired  man  who  sat  opposite 
him  at  the  table.  But  there  was  the  mysterious  tie 
of  blood  between  them.  Apparently  the  elderly  man 
and  the  boy  were  not  at  all  alike,  but  there  were 
points  of  resemblance.  They  both  felt  them,  and  in 
their  way  were  devoted  to  each  other. 

The  Judge  was  a  much-afflicted  man.  Wife,  sons, 
daughters,  all  were  gone,  but  this  one  lad,  and  he 
often  looked  at  him  wistfully.  If  anything  should 
happen  to  this  sole  grandchild  the  good  old  name 
of  Sancroft  would  die  out. 

A  day  came  when  it  looked  as  if  the  family  name 
would  go.  A  terrible  thing  happened  to  young 
Titus,  and  his  grandfather's  house  was  wrapped  in 
gloom.  The  lad's  unfortunate  habit  of  stuttering 
was  at  the  root  of  the  trouble. 

The  Judge  knew  perfectly  well  that  any  physical 
or  mental  peculiarity  about  a  boy  subjects  him  to  an 
intermittent  martyrdom  from  his  fellow  boys,  who 
with  respect  to  teasing  are  part  savages.  Therefore 
he  had  a  private  teacher  who  wrestled  with  Titus 
on  the  subject  of  stuttering  for  several  hours  a  week. 
He  also  was  willing  that  Titus  should  have  all  his 


THE  PIGEON  PRINCESS  11 

lessons  at  home,  but  this  the  boy  would  not  agree 
to,  and  the  Judge  respected  him  for  it. 

Titus  always  went  down  the  street  with  his  eyes 
rolling  about  him.  It  was  such  an  irresistible 
temptation  to  the  boys  to  imitate  him  that  usually 
the  air  was  vocal  with  mocking  birds. 

Fortunately,  Titus  was  exceedingly  wiry,  and 
utterly  fearless.  Otherwise  he  would  certainly  have 
been  cowed  or  injured  long  before  our  story  begins. 

He  always  marched  out  of  school  with  the  other 
boys,  never  waited  to  walk  home  in  the  shadow  of 
a  teacher,  and  if  a  call  of  derision  reached  him  and 
he  could  locate  the  boy,  if  he  had  time,  he  took  off 
his  coat,  intrusted  it  to  a  friend,  and  rushed  into  the 
fray.  The  boys  in  his  set  never  carried  books  in 
the  street.  They  had  duplicate  copies  at  home. 

On  one  particular  day,  which  turned  out  to  be  the 
disastrous  day  for  poor  Titus,  he  had  got  halfway 
home  with,  strange  to  say,  not  a  single  fight. 

It  was  not  a  school  day  but  a  holiday,  and  he  had 
been  downtown  with  a  companion.  Suddenly,  as 
he  strolled  along  beside  him,  a  teasing  voice  rang 
out: 

Stuttering  Tite,  stuttering  Tite, 

O,  he  is  a  daisy! 
Give  him  time  and  give  him  words, 

And  he'll  make  you  crazy. 
"  An  S  and  an  S,  and  a  T  and  a  T, 
And  a  stam  and  a  stutter,  and  don't  you  see — " 

The  boy  got  no  further.  His  song  was  so  mali- 
cious, his  manner  so  exquisitely  provoking,  that 
young  Titus,  without  waiting  for  a  single  prelim- 
inary, flew  upon  him  like  a  whirlwind. 


12  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Provoker  and  the  provoked  one  rolled  over  and 
over  in  the  middle  of  the  street.  It  was  a  rainy, 
muddy  morning  in  the  late  summer,  and  in  their 
dark  suits  and  bedaubed  condition  they  soon  had 
very  much  the  appearance  of  two  dogs. 

So  thought  a  young  man  who  was  driving  a  fast 
horse  and  talking  to  a  lively  young  girl  by  his  side. 
One  careless  glance  he  gave  the  supposed  dogs; 
then,  thinking  that  they  would  get  out  of  the  way, 
he  scarcely  took  pains  to  avoid  them. 

Needless  to  say,  the  dogs  made  no  effort  to  avoid 
him.  On  the  contrary,  they  rolled  right  in  his  path. 
One  terrified  shriek  he  heard  from  Titus's  opponent, 
then  there  was  silence. 

The  horrified  young  man  sprang  from  his  buggy. 
One  boy  was  not  hurt,  he  was  only  frightened.  The 
other  lay  with  his  dark  young  face  turned  up  to  the 
sky.  There  was  blood  on  his  hands  and  his  fore- 
head. The  horse's  hoofs  had  struck  him,  and  the 
wheels  of  the  buggy  had  gone  over  his  legs. 

The  young  man  did  not  lose  his  head.  He  asked 
the  uninjured  lad  for  Titus's  name  and  address,  he 
put  him  in  the  buggy,  and  requesting  a  bystander 
to  notify  the  Judge  he  drove  rapidly  to  a  hospital, 
his  girl  friend  tenderly  holding  Titus's  injured  head. 

The  succession  of  troubles  that  Judge  Sancroft  had 
had  during  his  life  had  all  been  of  a  deliberate  kind. 
His  wife  and  children  had  all  had  long  illnesses, 
and  much  suffering,  so  much  so  that  death  had 
come  as  a  welcome  release.  He  did  not  remember 
anything  just  as  sudden  as  this,  and  his  chastened 
and  subdued  heart  died  within  him.  He  feared 
that  he  was  going  to  lose  his  last  treasure. 


THE  PIGEON  PRINCESS  13 

He  happened  to  be  in  his  club  when  the  news 
came  to  him,  and  taking  a  carriage  he  drove  at  once 
to  the  hospital. 

What  a  contrast — from  the  quiet  luxurious  rooms 
of  the  club,  from  the  peaceful  reading  or  talking 
men,  to  this  abode  of  pain  and  distress. 

The  Judge  reverently  bared  his  head  as  he  entered 
the  door.  "God  pity  them!"  he  murmured,  as  he 
walked  through  the  long  halls  and  corridors  to  the 
private  room  where  his  young  grandson  had  been 
carried. 

There  was  a  white-capped  nurse  in  the  room. 
The  Judge  bowed  courteously  to  her,  then  he  turned 
to  the  bed. 

Was  that  Titus — was  that  his  lively,  mischievous 
grandson — that  pale,  quiet  lad  with  the  bandaged 
head? 

The  Judge  stretched  out  both  hands  and  laid 
them  on  the  lad's  wrists. 

"My  boy,"  he  said,  piteously,  "my  boy,  don't  you 
know  me?" 

"He  is  quite  unconscious,  sir,"  said  the  nurse. 

"Will  he  die?"  asked  the  Judge. 

"Sir,"  she  said,  protestingly,  "the  operation  has 
not  taken  place — only  an  examination." 

The  Judge  sat  down  by  the  bed.  Bitter,  rebellious 
thoughts,  resigned  thoughts,  protesting  thoughts, 
chased  each  other  through  his  mind. 

At  last  he  got  up  and  went  to  the  back  of  the 
room.  "God's  will  be  done,"  he  said,  with  a  great 
sigh. 

The  nurse  gazed  surreptitiously  at  him.  She  was 
very  young,  and  to  her  the  Judge  in  his  vigorous 


14  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

late  middle  age,  and  with  his  white  head,  appeared 
to  be  an  old  man. 

"And  a  good  one,"  she  said  to  herself.  Then  she 
listened. 

The  Judge  was  also  listening.  His  senses  were 
unnaturally  acute.  Before  her  he  heard  the  soft 
footfalls  and  the  whispering  at  the  door.  The  hos- 
pital attendants  had  come  to  take  his  boy  to  the 
operating  room. 

"I  shall  wait  here,"  he  said,  and  with  a  piteous 
face  he  watched  the  lifting  and  taking  away  of  the 
quiet  little  body.  But  when  the  door  closed  he  went 
on  his  knees  by  the  bed. 

"O,  Lord,  spare  my  boy — take  my  life  if  neces- 
sary, but  spare  his.  I  am  getting  old,  but  he  is 
young.  Spare  him,  spare  him,  dear  Lord !" 


CHAPTER  II 
MRS.  BLODGETT'S  OPINION 

WHAT  was  becoming  of  the  poor  princess  all  this 
time,  for  that  station  in  life  had  been  assigned  her 
as  soon  as  the  delighted  Titus  noted  her  aristocratic 
manners. 

She  was  now  a  lively  bird  of  three  weeks  of  age, 
and  though,  according  to  well  bred  pigeon  ways, 
she  had  not  yet  left  her  nest  she  was  always  looking 
about,  and  quite  well  aware  of  what  took  place 
around  her. 

The  accident  to  young  Titus  had  occurred  about 
noon,  when  he  was  on  his  way  home  for  lunch.  It 
was  now  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  Princess 
Sukey  was  inquiringly  raising  her  pretty  hooded 
head  from  her  basket  to  stare  about  her. 

Higby  and  the  maids  were  serving  the  dinner. 
Mrs.  Blodgett  had  had  a  dreadful  fit  of  hysterics 
when  she  heard  what  had  happened  to  the  boy  of 
the  household,  and  had  disappeared,  no  one  knew 
where. 

Higby  was  whispering  the  news.  The  Judge  had 
stayed  at  the  hospital  till  dinner  time.  The  doctors 
said  that  there  was  just  a  bare  chance  of  Master 
Titus's  life,  but  they  were  afraid  of  his  reason. 
There  had  been  injury  to  the  brain. 

"It's  powerful  sa-sa-sad  to  see  the  old  man,"  he 
went  on. 


16  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Higby  was  much  older  than  the  Judge,  but  still 
he  always  called  him  "the  old  man." 

"He  sits  and  ea-ea-eats,"  he  stammered. 

"Surely,"  said  the  young  rosy-faced  cook,  "he 
aint  eatin'  with  the  boy  'most  dyinV 

"Did  I  s-s-say  he  was?"  retorted  Higby.  "He's 
p-p-playin'  with  his  food  just  like  a  ca-ca-cat  with 
a  mouse,  only  he  ain't  goin'  to  e-e-eat  it." 

"  He  feels  bad  inside,"  said  the  parlor  maid  sym- 
pathetically. "I  know  the  feelin' — kind  of  sick 
like.  I  had  it  when  I  lost  my  little  brother.  Not  a 
bite  of  food  passed  my  lips  for  two  days.  What's 
the  matter  with  that  pigeon?" 

The  unfortunate  little  princess  was  nearly  starved. 
Her  crop  was  quite  empty,  and  she  was  experiencing 
some  of  the  torment  that  the  healthy  young  of  any 
kind  suffer  from  acute  hunger.  Titus  always  fed 
her  at  noon,  and  it  was  now  night.  Imperiously 
agitating  her  long  red  and  white  wings,  she  made 
the  whistling  noise  which  a  young  pigeon  strives 
to  attract  the  attention  of  its  parents. 

"Hush,  gor-gor-gormandizer,"  said  Higby,  turn- 
ing fiercely  on  her.  "Is  this  a  time  for  st-st-stuffing 
when  y-young  master  is  nearly  dead?" 

The  pigeon  understood  nothing  of  what  he  said 
about  the  boy,  but  she  clearly  saw  that  no  food 
would  be  forthcoming  now,  so  she  uttered  a  com- 
plaining "Wee!  wee!"  and  squatted  down  in  her 
basket. 

As  she  did  so  the  kitchen  door  leading  into  the 
back  hall  was  thrown  violently  open  and  Mrs. 
Blodgett  walked  in. 

She  was  a  short,  stout,  middle-aged  woman,  with 


MRS.  BLODGETT'S  OPINION  17 

red  cheeks  and  a  skin  that  looked  as  if  it  were  too 
tight  for  her  fat  body.  Her  clothes,  too,  were  tight, 
giving  her  generally  an  uncomfortable  appearance. 
The  expression  of  her  face  was  often  fretful. 
However,  she  was  on  the  whole  a  good  sort  of 
woman. 

Just  now  she  was  greatly  excited.  She  untied 
her  bonnet  strings,  flung  them  back,  and  said  in  a 
loud  voice,  "I've  seen  him." 

"S-s-seen  who?"  asked  Higby,  stopping  short 
with  a  tray  in  his  hands. 

"The  boy.     Where's  the  Judge?" 

"Master  T-t-titus!"  exclaimed  Higby,  walking 
backward  and  striking  his  foot. 

"Yes — hush — I'll  tell  you  later.  Give  me  that 
pigeon." 

Before  anyone  could  reach  the  princess  Mrs. 
Blodgett  had  snatched  the  basket  from  one  of  the 
kitchen  tables,  and  was  walking  toward  the  stairway 
leading  to  the  upper  part  of  the  house. 

Suddenly  she  turned  back.    "Where's  the  Judge  ?" 

Higby  stared  at  her.  Then  he  said,  "I-i-in  his 
study — he  ordered  co-co-coffee  there.  You're  not 
going  to  s-s-see  him  ?" 

"Why  aint  I?"  she  asked,  irritably.  "Why  aint 
I?" 

"I  d-d-don't  know,"  stammered  Higby.  "Only 
you  don't  generally  call  on  him  this  time  of  day." 

"Lead  the  way,"  she  said,  grandly.    "Step  out." 

Higby  stumbled  up  the  steps  before  her,  the  dishes 
rattling  as  he  went.  When  he  opened  the  study 
door  Mrs.  Blodgett  walked  in  after  him. 

The  Judge  was  standing  before  the  fireplace  in 


1 8  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

a  melancholy  attitude,  with  his  hands  behind  his 
back. 

He  looked  at  Mrs.  Blodgett  as  she  came  in,  but 
did  not  seem  surprised.  His  servants  often  came  to 
him  with  their  troubles. 

"Well,  Mrs.  Blodgett, "  he  said,  patiently,  when 
Higby  poured  out  his  cup  of  coffee  and  handed  it 
to  him. 

"I've  somewhat  to  say  to  you,  sir,"  she  replied, 
with  a  toss  of  her  head. 

The  Judge  looked  at  Higby,  who  went  into  the 
hall,  closing  the  door  reluctantly  behind  him. 

Mrs.  Blodgett  was  struggling  with  a  variety  of 
emotions.  At  last  she  burst  out  with  a  remark,  "I've 
seen  the  boy,  sir!" 

"Have  you?"  said  the  Judge,  eagerly,  and  turn- 
ing he  put  his  coffee  cup  on  the  mantelpiece,  as  if 
glad  of  an  excuse  to  be  rid  of  it. 

"Yes,  sir,  I've  seen  the  boy,  and  he  spoke  to  me." 

"He  spoke!"  exclaimed  the  Judge,  "but,  Mrs. 
Blodgett,  what  does  this  mean?  No  one  was  to  be 
admitted." 

Mrs.  Blodgett  smiled.  She  knew  that  the  Judge 
was  too  just  to  condemn  her  without  a  hearing. 

"It  was  this  way,  sir,"  she  said,  gently  putting 
the  pigeon's  basket  down  on  the  table,  and  taking  a 
handkerchief  from  her  pocket  to  mop  her  flushed 
face.  "It  was  this  way,"  and  as  she  spoke  she  felt 
herself  getting  calm.  There  was  a  peaceful,  judicial 
atmosphere  in  the  Judge's  study,  and  about  the  man 
himself  there  was  something  genial  and  soothing. 
"When  I  heard  of  that  boy's  head  run  over  and 
smashed,  the  heart  stood  still  in  my  body.  Now,  if 


MRS.  BLODGETT'S  OPINION  19 

it  had  been  you,  sir,  or  me,  or  Higby — but  that  only 
bit  of  young  life  about  the  house — it  did  seem  too 
awful.  'I'm  goin'  to  see  him,'  said  I.  Tm  goin'  to 
see  him  afore  he  dies.'  Bells  were  ringin'  in  my  ears, 
an'  my  head  was  in  a  kind  of  fog  like  a  ship  at  sea, 
but  I  crawled  out  to  the  street,  I  walked  to  the  hos- 
pital. Many's  the  hour  I  paced  up  and  down  waitin' 
for  you  to  come  out,  for  I  knew  you'd  stop  me  if 
you  saw  me.  When  you  was  out  of  sight  I  hurried 
to  the  door — I  rung  the  bell." 

The  Judge  drew  a  long  breath,  and  leaned  his 
head  slightly  forward  in  the  intensity  of  his  in- 
terest. 

"  'Could  I  see  the  bed  where  Master  Titus  lay  ?' 
I  asked,"  continued  Mrs.  Blodgett.  "No,  I  couldn't. 
I  was  prepared  for  that.  But  can  you  stop  a  woman 
when  she  makes  up  her  mind  ?  No,  sir.  I  sat  in  the 
waitin'  room  an'  I  cried  for  a  solid  hour,  and  then 
they  said  I  might  look  in  the  room  for  one  minute, 
if  I'd  promise  not  to  speak  above  my  breath. 

"I  promised,  and  I  meant  to  keep  it,  but  I  didn't. 
When  I  walked  into  that  quiet  room,  when  I  looked 
at  him  lyin'  so  still  with  them  white  cloths  on  his 
black  head,  then,  may  heaven  forgive  me,  sir,  I  let 
a  screech  of  'Master  Titus,  me  darlin' !' 

"He  opened  them  impish  eyes,  sir,  he  give  me  a 
glance.  'Blodgieblossom,'  says  he,  'feed  the  pigeon, 
an'  tell  grandfather.' 

"He  spoke,  an'  he  went  to  sleep  again,  an'  I  was 
hustled  out  into  the  hall,  an'  my !  didn't  them  nurses 
give  me  a  tongue-lashin' !  But  I  had  heard  my  boy 
speak,  sir ;  his  mind  were  there." 

The  Judge's  face  was  disturbed  and  bewildered. 


20  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Mrs.  Blodgett  was  hurrying  on,  though  she  kept 
a  keen  eye  on  him. 

"So,  sir,  I  says  to  myself,  'Go  right  home,  tell  the 
Judge  what  the  boy  says.  Tell  him  that  if  the  Lord 
in  his  mercy  spared  an  innocent  bird  when  it  was 
tumbled  out  of  its  nest,  maybe  he  will  spare  a  help- 
less boy.' ' 

The  Judge's  face  was  radiant.  "Then  there  is  a 
pigeon  ?" 

"Indeed  there  be,  sir,"  she  said,  pulling  at  the 
princess,  who,  perceiving  herself  in  a  new  environ- 
ment, had  crouched  down  in  her  basket.  "Your 
young  grandson's  pet  pigeon,  hid  for  fear  of  you — 
O,  sir,  'tis  sad  to  see  him  cravin'  dogs  an'  cats,  an* 
havin'  only  this  senseless  fowl!" 

This  was  an  unkind  slap  at  the  princess,  who,  how- 
ever, took  it  good-naturedly,  but  the  Judge  looked 
sharply  at  Mrs.  Blodgett. 

"Sir,"  she  said,  in  an  earnest  voice,  "I've  been 
thinkin'  of  the  many  years  I've  served  you.  You've 
been  a  good,  kind  master  to  me,  bearin'  with  my 
faults  an'  my  temper,  an',  sir,  when  I  heard  of  the 
boy's  mishap  I  blamed  myself  for  somethin'  I've 
often  thought  of  doin',  but  have  never  done." 

The  Judge  made  no  remark,  but  his  round,  full, 
honest  eyes  were  bent  on  her  intently  as  she  went 
on. 

"You  couldn't  get  me  to  leave  your  employ,  sir, 
not  unless  you  chased  me  out.  There  aint  a  servant 
ever  comes  in  this  house  that  leaves  on  account  of 
you.  It's  me,  or  Higby.  An',  sir,  likin'  an'  honorin' 
you,  I  can't  help  takin'  an  interest  in  your  grandson. 
There's  a  soft  spot  in  him,  spite  of  his  provokin' 


MRS.  BLODGETT'S  OPINION  21 

ways,  an'  many's  the  time  I've  shed  a  tear  over  his 
motherless  head.  I,  bein'  as  it  were  the  only  woman 
in  the  house — them  senseless,  gigglin'  girls,  an'  you 
an'  that  poor  foolish  creature  Higby,  not  countin'. 
An'  takin'  an  interest,  I've  often  thought  that  boys 
bein'  naturally  fond  of  live  stock,  it's  a  pity  you  don't 
let  Master  Titus  have  some  to  potter  over.  If  he  had 
he'd  hurry  home  from  school  like  Charlie  Brown, 
an'  not  spend  so  much  time  in  loiterin'  around  the 
streets  an'  pickin'  up  quarrels." 

The  Judge  contracted  his  eyebrows. 

"Sir,"  said  the  woman,  solemnly,  "if  I'd  come  to 
you  long  ago  an'  said,  'Your  young  grandson  just 
craves  the  pets  the  other  boys  have,'  you'd  have  got 
him  some." 

"Mrs.  Blodgett,"  said  the  Judge,  kindly,  "let  the 
past  alone." 

"But,  sir,  you'd  have  done  it,"  she  said,  tearfully. 
"You're  that  kind  of  a  man.  Young  Master  Titus 
has  always  hid  that  set  of  feelin's  from  you.  He 
pretended  he  didn't  want  a  pony  or  a  dog.  He  wanted 
to  please  you.  An',  sir,  the  fear  of  the  extra  clutter 
of  work  was  what  kep'  my  mouth  shut.  Says  I, 
'If  he  has  rabbits  and  fowls  I'll  have  more  work  to 
do.'  An'  when  I  heard  of  what  happened  this  holi- 
day mornin',  when  there  was  no  school  to  take  him 
out,  an'  when  he  naterally  would  'a'  been  with  pets 
if  he  had  had  'em,  I  said,  'The  Lord  has  punished 
me!'" 

She  was  sobbing  bitterly  now,  and  the  Judge  felt 
his  own  eyes  growing  moist. 

"Mrs.  Blodgett,"  he  said,  slowly,  "we  all  make 
mistakes.  With  shame  and  contrition  I  acknowl- 


22  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

edge  that  my  life  has  been  full  of  them.  But  tears 
do  not  blot  out  errors.  Turn  your  back  on  past 
faults,  and  go  forward  in  the  new  path  you  have 
marked  out.  Do  not  waste  strength  in  lamentations. 
I  see  that  I  have  done  wrong  not  to  find  out  a  natu- 
ral, wholesome  instinct  in  my  grandson.  If  the  Lord 
spares  him  we  shall  see  a  different  order  of  things. 
Let  us  say  we  have  done  wrong — we  will  do  better 
in  future." 

The  woman  looked  up  in  a  kind  of  awe.  She  was 
only  of  medium  height.  The  Judge  stood  far  above 
her.  He  had  straightened  himself  as  if  to  take  new 
courage.  His  tall  form  seemed  taller,  his  eyes  were 
fixed  on  vacancy.  And  this  grand,  good  man,  with- 
out forgetting  or  laying  aside  his  dignity,  had  before 
her,  a  humble  servant,  clothed  himself  with  humility. 
He  had  done  wrong,  he  said. 

"Sir,"  she  replied,  with  her  woman's  mind  rapidly 
darting  to  a  new  subject,  "I've  heard  say  that  once 
the  biggest  lawyer,  the  chief  of  all  the  lawyers  in 
the  Union — " 

She  hesitated,  and  bringing  back  his  gaze  to  her 
the  Judge  said,  kindly,  "The  chief  justice  of  the 
Supreme  Court?" 

"Yes,  sir,  I've  heard  say  that  he  got  stuck,  and  he 
asked  your  opinion.  Is  that  so?" 

"Not  exactly,  Mrs.  Blodgett,"  he  said,  smiling 
slightly  and  shaking  his  head,  "not  exactly,  but — " 

He  looked  at  a  clock  on  the  wall.  He  was  in  trou- 
ble, and  wished  to  be  alone,  but,  like  the  courteous 
gentleman  he  was,  did  not  care  to  dismiss  her. 

However,  she  understood  him.  "I  ask  your  par- 
don, sir,"  she  said,  humbly,  "for  takin'  up  so  much 


MRS.  BLODGETT'S  OPINION  23 

of  your  valuable  time,  but  I  was  in  sore  straits  about 
this  pigeon." 

"Ah!  that  is  the  bird,  is  it?"  asked  the  Judge, 
stepping  forward. 

The  princess  rose  up  in  her  beauty.  That  kind 
face  leaning  over  her  meant  food,  and  shaking  her 
wings  she  uttered  a  pitiful  "Wee !  wee !" 

Mrs.  Blodgett  was  anxiously  watching  the  Judge. 

"I  take  it,  sir,  as  how  the  lad  is  thinkin'  of  it  in 
his  deliriumtries.  He  wants  you  to  know  about  it, 
an'  have  it  looked  after.  The  unthinkin'  creature 
has  been  brought  up  near  the  kitchen  range,  but  now 
that  precious  lamb  is  worryin'  about  it  I  don't  dare 
to  leave  it  there.  Suppose  the  girls  should  spill 
gravy  on  it!" 

All  this  talk  was  very  fine,  but  in  the  meantime 
the  princess  was  dying  of  hunger,  so  in  her  distress 
she  did  what  she  had  never  done  before.  Leaning 
over  the  edge  of  her  basket,  she  raised  one  coral 
claw,  held  on,  scrambled,  then  hopped  out,  and 
trotted  over  the  writing  table  toward  the  Judge. 

"She's  hungry,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Blodgett.  "If  you 
like,  sir,  I'll  bring  her  food  here." 

The  Judge  was  looking  at  Sukey  with  a  most 
peculiar  expression.  He  knew  nothing  about  birds. 
How  many  things  he  had  dipped  into  apart  from 
his  profession,  but  never  once  had  he  ever  felt  the 
slightest  curiosity  with  regard  to  the  lower  creation. 
Birds  and  animals  existed,  but  he  did  not  care  to 
know  anything  about  them.  Now,  as  he  looked  at 
the  pigeon  in  the  light  of  his  grandson's  interest,  a 
series  of  thoughts  flashed  into  his  mind.  The  crea- 
ture had  the  breath  of  life  in  its  nostrils  just  as  he 


24  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

had,  it  was  hungry,  it  could  make  its  wants  known. 
How  many  other  points  of  resemblance  to  human 
beings  had  it? 

"Why  is  it  doing  that  ?"  he  asked,  when  the  pretty 
hooded  head  was  thrust  into  his  hand,  and  the  pink 
beak  tapped  his  fingers. 

"It's  food,  sir,  she's  after.  Shall  I  ring  for  Higby 
to  bring  some?" 

The  Judge  was  just  about  to  say,  "Take  it  away," 
when  he  reflected  that  it  was  Titus's  bird,  and 
stretching  out  a  hand  he  rang  the  bell  by  the  fire- 
place. 

Higby  came  hurrying  into  the  room  with  a  precip- 
itation that  told  he  had  not  been  far  away. 

"Pigeon  food,  Higby,"  said  Mrs.  Blodgett,  grand- 
ly; "some  warm  water  to  drink,  and  all  Master 
Titus's  syringes  and  things  for  feedin'  the  fowl." 

Higby  disappeared  at  the  wave  of  her  hand,  and 
presently  came  back  with  a  box  full  of  things. 

"Here,"  said  Mrs.  Blodgett,  clearing  a  place  on 
the  Judge's  writing  table,  "here." 

Higby  put  down  the  things,  then  he  stared  at  her. 

"Take  the  pigeon,"  she  said,  "hold  it  in  your 
hands.  I'll  fix  the  food." 

Higby,  in  surprise,  did  as  she  told  him,  and  the 
Judge,  silently  standing  beside  them,  watched  with 
interest. 

"Let's  see,"  said  Mrs.  Blodgett,  turning  over  the 
things  in  the  box,  "there's  nothin'  mixed.  We'll  give 
her  millet  seed,  sand,  scraped  cuttlefish,  and  soaked 
bread.  I'll  mix  it,"  and,  pouring  the  various  in- 
gredients in  a  cup,  she  stirred  them  as  briskly  as  if 
she  were  making  a  pudding. 


MRS.  BLODGETT'S  OPINION  25 

Higby  was  amazed.  He  did  not  suppose  that 
Mrs.  Blodgett  knew  anything  about  the  pigeon,  but 
she  was  pretty  shrewd,  and  had  always  kept  one  eye 
on  him  and  the  boy  as  they  took  care  of  the  princess. 

"No,  I  don't  want  that  syringe,"  she  said,  pushing 
it  away  when  Higby  offered  it  to  her.  "To  my 
mind,  this  bird  is  too  big  for  soft  food.  I'll  make 
it  pills,"  and  she  rolled  the  bread  and  seed  together. 
"Now  for  a  feedin'  stick,"  she  said,  looking  around. 
"I  can't  push  the  food  down  that  small  throat  with 
my  fingers." 

Turning  her  head  to  and  fro,  she  espied  a  slender 
silver  penholder  on  the  writing  table.  Catching  it 
up,  she  tore  a  strip  from  her  handkerchief,  wound 
it  round  the  tapering  end  of  the  penholder,  and 
pushed  the  pill  into  the  princess's  beak. 

"That  pill  sticks,"  she  said,  briskly;  "I'll  dip  the 
next  in  water." 

Higby  looked  at  the  Judge  as  if  to  say,  "Isn't  she 
a  wonderful  woman,"  and  the  Judge  in  a  quiet  way 
seemed  to  return  the  glance  and  say,  "She  is !" 

The  poor  little  princess  was  delighted  to  get  some 
food.  She  flapped  her  wings,  which  had  now  grown 
quite  large,  until  she  embraced  Mrs.  Blodgett's  hand 
with  them.  She  loved  to  feel  the  food  slipping  down 
her  throat,  and  how  comfortable  was  her  crop  when 
at  last  it  was  quite  full,  and  Mrs.  Blodgett  was 
giving  her  sips  of  water  from  a  coffee  spoon. 

The  princess  had  learned  to  drink  in  that  way, 
though  it  was  very  hard  for  her,  as  a  pigeon,  un- 
like most  other  birds,  keeps  its  head  down  while 
drinking. 

After  Mrs.   Blodgett  had  finished   feeding  the 


26  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

princess  she  carefully  wiped  her  beak,  and  put  her 
back  in  the  basket. 

Then  in  a  somewhat  hesitating  and  embarrassed 
manner  she  cleaned  up  some  water  drops  from  the 
table,  and  cast  scrutinizing  glances  at  the  Judge 
from  under  her  eyelids. 

He  did  not  see  her.  His  mind  was  wandering. 
His  body  was  in  the  room,  but  his  thoughts  were  at 
the  hospital  with  his  cruelly  injured  grandson. 

Mrs.  Blodgett  waved  Higby  from  the  room. 
Then,  soberly  depositing  the  basket  on  a  corner  of 
the  hearth  rug,  she  too  slipped  out. 

The  princess  lay  quietly  in  her  basket,  just  keeping 
one  eye  on  the  Judge.  She  was  a  discreet  young 
pigeon,  but  then  all  pigeons  are  discreet.  They  are 
hatched  with  serious  dispositions.  Play  rarely  enters 
into  their  thoughts.  They  want  to  work,  to  eat,  and 
not  to  be  taken  from  their  homes,  for,  next  to  cats, 
pigeons  love  their  own  locality. 

The  Judge  never  looked  at  the  princess,  and  after 
standing  up  to  clean  and  arrange  her  feathers,  the 
last  thing  a  well  bred  pigeon  does  at  night,  she  went 
to  sleep. 

The  poor  Judge  sank  into  an  easy-chair.  .Hour 
after  hour  he  sat  buried  there,  buried  in  sorrow.  At 
midnight  he  got  up  and  went  to  the  telephone  on  a 
desk  by  the  window. 

"Give  me  the  City  Hospital,"  he  said,  and  then 
he  went  on :  "Judge  Sancroft  is  speaking.  How  is 
my  grandson  ?" 

He  groaned  when  he  received  the  message :  "Boy 
remains  the  same — condition  unchanged."  Then  he 
went  back  to  his  easy-chair. 


MRS.  BLODGETT'S  OPINION  27 

At  intervals  all  through  the  night  he  went  from 
his  chair  to  the  telephone,  and  back  again. 

His  face  would  light  up  when  he  approached  the 
desk.  Then  as  the  too  familiar  reply  came  back  it 
would  fall,  his  head  would  sink  on  his  breast,  his 
shoulders  would  droop,  and  with  the  step  of  an  old 
and  weary  man  he  would  turn  away. 

Toward  morning,  when  he  painfully  dragged  him- 
self to  the  desk,  his  face  did  not  light  up.  He  was 
giving  up  hope.  However,  it  did  light  up,  and  with 
an  unearthly  radiance  too,  when  the  answer  this  time 
came  to  him :  "Boy  better — has  regained  conscious- 
ness, and  is  asking  for  you.  Come  at  once." 

The  Judge  sprang  up  like  a  boy.  He  raised  his 
two  hands  to  heaven,  "God  be  praised — if  the  boy 
lives,  a  double  contribution  to  the  poor — another  boy 
to  share  his  life — an  end  to  my  selfishness — if  he 
lives — if  he  lives,"  and  burying  his  face  in  his  hands 
the  dear  old  Judge  sobbed  like  a  baby. 


CHAPTER  III 
HAPPY  TIMES 

AH!  that  was  the  beginning  of  happy  times  for 
the  princess. 

"Grandfather !"  said  Titus,  weakly,  "I  have  been 
acting  a  lie,  but  don't  punish  the  bird."  That  was 
one  of  the  first  sentences  he  uttered. 

"Hush,  hush!"  said  the  Judge,  soothingly. 
"Hush,  my  boy,  your  pigeon  is  in  my  study.  Go 
to  sleep — there  is  nothing  to  worry  about." 

Then  he  sat  and  looked  blissfully  and  curiously 
at  the  tired,  closed  eyes.  What  fancy  was  this,  or, 
to  go  deeper,  what  sympathy,  what  affinity  was  it 
that  drew  the  first  thought  of  an  almost  mortally 
wounded  boy  to  a  member  of  the  bird  world  ?  That 
pigeon  was  more  to  him  than  anything  else,  appar- 
ently. 

"Doctor,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice,  getting  up  and 
going  over  to  the  white-haired  superintendent  of 
the  hospital  who  happened  to  be  at  the  other  end 
of  the  room,  "are  all  lads  fond  of  animals?" 

"Almost  all  healthy,  normal  ones  are,  according 
to  my  observation,"  replied  the  doctor. 

"What  is  the  philosophy  of  it?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  the  man,  frankly.  "I  can 
remember  my  own  passion  for  animals  when  I  was 
young,  but  I  have  outgrown  it.  A  little  girl  loves 
her  doll,  a  boy  his  dog.  The  woman  casts  aside  her 
doll  for  her  daughter — " 


HAPPY  TIMES  29 

"And  the  boy,  or  the  man,  has  his  sons,"  whis- 
pered the  Judge. 

The  doctor  nodded.  "The  young  of  any  kind  of 
creature  is  interested  in  the  young  of  any  other. 
Sometimes  they  keep  the  interest  to  maturity,  some- 
times they  don't." 

"I  can  understand  a  boy's  interest  in  a  dog," 
murmured  the  Judge,  "but  a  pigeon — " 

"Is  that  lad  attached  to  a  pigeon?"  inquired  the 
doctor,  with  a  sharp  look  at  the  bed. 

"Yes,  very  much  so." 

"And  is  inquiring  about  it?" 

"Yes." 

"Then  take  good  care  of  it,"  said  the  doctor, 
"and  if  it  dies  don't  let  him  know." 

The  Judge  nodded,  and  went  back  to  the  bed. 

The  doctor's  advice  was  repeated  at  home  in  the 
big  stone  house. 

"Didn't  I  tell  you  so!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Blodgett 
in  huge  delight,  "didn't  I  tell  you  so!"  and  she 
immediately  went  downtown  and  bought  a  new  bas- 
ket for  the  princess,  who  fell  into  a  most  unaristo- 
cratic  rage  when  she  was  put  into  it. 

"Pigeons  is  like  ca-ca-cats,"  remarked  Higby,  who 
was  watching  Mrs.  Blodgett  induct  the  princess  into 
her  new  home.  "They  h-h-hate  changes." 

"But,  darlin'  princess,  look  at  the  white  ribbons," 
said  Mrs.  Blodgett,  cajolingly,  "an*  the  pretty  Ger- 
man straw.  Why,  it's  a  lovely  basket." 

"Rookety  cahoo!  rookety  cahoo!"  said  the  prin- 
cess, stepping  high  and  wrathfully  shaking  her  hood. 

"Rookety  cahoo !  or  no  rookety  cahoo !"  said  Mrs. 
Blodgett,  decidedly,  "you've  got  to  have  it.  No  dirty 


30  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

old  baskets  in  the  Judge's  study.  You've  got  to  be 
kept  as  clean  as  clean.  Higby,  you  clear  up  that 
litter  of  straw.  She  aint  goin'  to  sit  on  it  any  more. 
I've  got  a  roll  of  scrim  to  make  her  cushions.  She 
drags  the  straw  about  with  her  claws  all  over  the 
carpet — and  we  aint  goin'  to  feed  her  in  here  any 
more.  She  drops  seeds.  We'll  take  her  in  the  pan- 
try. I  don't  want  the  Judge  to  turn  her  out  of  his 
room.  If  anything  happened  to  her  anywhere  else 
we'd  be  blamed." 

"The  Judge  don't  take  n-n-no  notice  of  her," 
grumbled  Higby. 

"Don't  he — that's  all  you  know.  I  see  him  lookin' 
at  her,  an'  weighin'  her  actions,  an*  sizin'  her  up. 
I'll  bet  you  he  never  knew  so  much  about  pigeons 
afore." 

It  was  true  that  the  Judge  was  observing  Princess 
Sukey.  He  was  obliged  to  do  so,  for  as  soon  as 
Titus  was  allowed  to  talk  he  seemed  bewitched  to 
get  on  to  the  subject  of  his  pigeon.  How  did  she 
look,  had  she  grown  much — there  were  a  few  little 
feathers  under  her  wings  that  had  not  started — had 
they  appeared  yet?  and  the  Judge  was  obliged  to 
answer  all  his  questions,  and  if  his  observations  of 
the  pigeon  had  not  been  sufficiently  narrow  he  had 
to  promise  to  make  more. 

The  days  passed  by.  Young  Titus  went  steadily 
forward.  He  never  lost  a  step.  The  hospital  au- 
thorities declared  that  his  recuperative  powers  were 
marvelous,  and  the  Judge,  who  had  painfully  feared 
some  hereditary  weakness,  silently  bowed  his  head 
and  gave  thanks. 

One  day  Mrs.  Blodgett  went  into  the  Judge's 


HAPPY  TIMES  31 

study,  which  was  a  beautiful  room  looking  south, 
and  having  large  windows  opening  on  a  balcony. 
She  was  in  search  of  the  princess,  and  the  pigeon, 
seeing  her  coming,  hurried  somewhat  apprehensively 
out  to  this  balcony.  She  had  been  out  of  bounds, 
and  Mrs.  Blodgett  owned  a  little  switch  which  she 
kept  hidden  behind  one  of  the  bookcases. 

The  princess  was  only  allowed  to  sit  or  stand  in 
her  basket,  which  stood  on  a  square  of  oilcloth  by 
the  fireplace,  to  walk  directly  to  the  balcony,  or 
directly  back.  She  must  not  linger  in  corners  of 
the  room,  or  fly  up  on  the  bookcases,  the  tables,  or 
the  desk. 

Just  now  she  had  been  loitering  under  one  of  the 
tables,  picking  at  the  flowers  in  the  carpet ;  therefore, 
seeing  Mrs.  Blodgett,  she  took  to  the  balcony. 

Mrs.  Blodgett  laughed  good-humoredly,  "I  am 
not  going  to  whip  you  to-day.  I  am  ordered  to 
take  you  to  the  hospital  to  see  your  young  master, 
and  mind  you  are  a  good  bird." 

The  princess  submitted  to  being  caught  and  put 
in  her  basket.  Mrs.  Blodgett  tied  a  piece  of  stout 
paper  firmly  over  her,  then  putting  the  basket  on  her 
arm  she  went  downstairs  and  out  of  doors  to  the 
street,  where  the  coachman  Roblee  was  awaiting 
her  with  the  Judge's  carriage. 

The  rubber-tired  wheels  moved  softly  over  the 
asphalt  pavement,  but  the  princess  liked  neither  the 
confinement  nor  the  motion,  and  she  was  a  fright- 
ened-looking bird  when  she  reached  the  hospital. 

Titus  did  not  say  much,  but  his  black  eyes  spar- 
kled when  Mrs.  Blodgett  put  the  basket  down  on  his 
bed. 


32  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"W-w-whew !"  he  said  after  a  time,  "isn't  she  a 
beauty — a  real  princess!" 

Sukey  cared  nothing  for  his  admiration.  She  was 
in  a  strange  place,  and  raising  her  beautiful  hooded 
head  she  gazed  apprehensively  and  miserably  about 
her. 

Not  one  sound  would  she  utter,  and  when  Titus 
tried  to  caress  her  she  would  slip  her  soft  back  from 
under  his  hand  and  trot  toward  Mrs.  Blodgett. 

"S-s-she  has  forgotten  me,"  said  the  boy,  with  a 
chagrined  air. 

"Don't  you  believe  it,  Master  Titus,"  replied  Mrs. 
Blodgett,  consolingly.  "She  always  do  act  that  way 
when  you  takes  her  in  a  strange  place." 

However,  she  had  forgotten  Titus,  or  she  had 
transferred  her  affections  to  others.  That  was  con- 
firmed when  the  boy  returned  home  a  few  weeks 
later. 

His  grandfather  had  insisted  upon  his  staying  in 
the  hospital  until  he  was  quite  well,  but  everything 
comes  to  him  who  waits,  and  at  last  the  day  arrived 
when  Titus's  belongings  were  packed.  He  himself 
limped  out  of  his  room,  and  down  the  long  halls  and 
staircases,  and  entered  the  carriage  waiting  for 
him. 

A  nurse  went  with  him,  for  his  grandfather  was 
confined  at  home  with  a  slight  cold. 

When  the  carriage  drove  up  to  the  door  Titus 
hobbled  up  the  steps  and  greeted  the  servants,  who 
were  all  waiting  for  him. 

"H-h-how  do  you  do,  everybody?"  he  called  out, 
cheerily,  "H-h-here  I  am  as  good  as  new,  except  a 
scar  on  my  forehead,  and  one  foot  a  little  bit  crooked. 


"  \Y-\v-whew!"  he  said  after  a  time,  "isn't  she  a  beauty 
— a  real  princess!" 


HAPPY  TIMES  33 

W-where's  grandfather  ?"  and  he  limped  upstairs  to 
the  Judge's  study. 

He  was  not  a  demonstrative  boy,  but  on  this  day 
he  gave  his  grandfather  a  bearish  hug;  then,  as  if 
he  were  ashamed  of  so  much  expansion,  he  turned 
on  his  heel  and  said,  "Where's  the  pigeon  ?" 

His  grandfather  smiled.    "There  she  is." 

Titus  looked  around.  The  princess's  back  was 
toward  him;  she  was  very  busy  about  something, 
he  could  not  tell  what. 

He  stepped  forward  and  recognized  an  enormous 
pincushion,  the  property  of  Mrs.  Blodgett.  It  was 
stuck  full  of  large,  round-headed  pins,  and  the 
pigeon  was  amusing  herself  by  pulling  out  these  pins 
and  throwing  them  on  her  square  of  oilcloth. 

"W-w-what  is  she  doing  that  for  ?"  asked  the  boy, 
in  amazement. 

"To  kill  time,  I  suppose,"  replied  his  grandfather. 
"It  is  my  proud  privilege  to  pick  up  the  pins  and 
stick  them  in  the  cushion  when  she  has  drawn  them 
all  out." 

"W-w-well,  I  never !"  exclaimed  Titus,  with  open 
mouth.  "I  never  saw  a  pigeon  play  before."  Then 
he  said,  "Sukey!" 

The  pigeon  turned  round. 

"P-p-pretty  bird,"  he  went  on. 

"O,  rookety  cahoo !"  she  said,  irritably,  and  as  he 
continued  to  pet  her  she  walked  up  and  down  the 
oilcloth,  shaking  her  head  and  setting  her  hood  quiv- 
ering. 

There  was  a  lovely  greenish  sheen  on  the  red  neck 
feathers,  and  Titus  exclaimed  admiringly,  "Y-you 
beauty!" 


34  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Sukeyina  rage  uttered  a  series  of  choking  "Rook- 
ety  cahoos !"  then  she  flew  on  the  Judge's  shoulder. 

Titus  was  awestruck.  "Do  you  let  her  do  that?" 
he  asked. 

"I  can't  help  it,"  said  the  Judge,  sheepishly  trying 
to  drive  her  away. 

She  resisted  him,  and  rapidly  turning  would  give 
Titus  a  wrathful  glance,  and  would  then  peck  lov- 
ingly at  the  Judge's  ear. 

"I've  spoiled  her,"  said  the  Judge,  weakly. 

Titus  sank  into  a  chair. 

"Here  take  her,"  said  his  grandfather,  reaching 
up  both  hands,  seizing  the  bird  bodily,  and  deposit- 
ing her  on  his  grandson's  knee. 

The  boy  held  her,  and  gently  stroked  her  head. 
Struggling  furiously,  she  caught  hold  of  his  fingers, 
bit  them  sharply  until  he  released  her,  when  she  flew 
to  the  Judge's  knee,  and  seemed  to  be  telling  him  a 
long  story  of  insult  and  injury. 

The  Judge  could  not  help  laughing,  and  finally 
Titus  laughed  too.  Then  he  said,  "W-w-well,  I've 
lost  my  pigeon." 

"Never  mind,"  said  his  grandfather,  "you  shall 
have  some  others  for  yourself.  I  spoke  to  a  car- 
penter the  other  day  about  making  a  loft  up  at  the 
stable  for  you." 

Titus  gave  his  grandfather  a  queer  look.  Then 
after  a  long  silence  he  said,  strangely,  "Y-you  don't 
mean  it?" 

"But  I  do." 

The  boy  was  overcome,  and  turning  round  in  his 
chair  he  laid  his  head  on  his  arm.  To  have  pigeons 
— to  have  a  loft  like  Charlie  Brown's — to  see  his 


HAPPY  TIMES  35 

very  own  birds  strutting  about  in  it,  to  buy  and  sell 
and  bargain  in  the  way  so  dear  to  boyish  hearts. 

"Grandfather,"  he  said  after  a  time,  and  now  he 
was  so  much  moved  that  he  did  not  stutter,  "I'm  not 
just  the  same  as  when  I  went  into  the  hospital." 

"Indeed !"  said  his  grandfather,  kindly. 

"No,  sir.  I  thought,"  and  he  pointed  a  finger  at 
the  princess,  "that  I'd  raise  and  sell  her,  but  now  I 
don't  want  to." 

"Why  not?" 

"I  don't  know,  sir." 

"I  will  tell  you,"  said  his  grandfather,  very  kindly 
and  very  seriously,  "your  hard  lesson  has  taught  you 
that  a  boy  is  not  all  legs,  stomach,  and  brain.  He 
has  also  a  heart." 


CHAPTER  IV 
THE  JUDGE'S  Vow 

THE  Judge  often  looked  up  at  a  large  painting  on 
his  study  wall — "Even  This  Shall  Pass  Away." 

The  words  were  issuing  from  the  lips  of  an  Ori- 
ental king  who,  seated  on  a  magnificent  throne,  was 
receiving  the  homage  of  his  courtiers.  A  half-sad, 
half-indulgent  smile  played  about  his  face,  and  on 
his  uplifted  hand  there  could  be  seen  the  words 
deeply  cut  on  a  finger  ring,  "Even  This  Shall  Pass 
Away." 

The  Judge  often  looked  at  this  picture.  How 
many,  many  things  had  passed  away  in  his  experi- 
ence— things  that  apparently  never  would  pass  away! 
How  the  time  had  dragged  when  Titus  lay  ill  in  the 
hospital!  It  had  seemed  as  if  he  would  always  be 
ill,  as  if  his  grandfather  would  always  be  at  home, 
a  worried  and  suffering  man.  But  now  only  a  few 
weeks  had  gone  by  and  Titus  was  at  home,  and 
things  were  going  on  as  they  had  before  his  acci- 
dent. 

The  boy  was  going  to  school  again — no  fear  of 
fights  now.  He  could  stutter  as  much  as  he  pleased. 
The  boys,  half  savages  as  some  of  them  appeared 
to  be,  were  afraid  to  touch  him. 

After  breakfast  the  Judge  read  his  paper,  went 
downtown  to  the  post  office,  the  bank,  and  his  club, 
then  came  home. 


THE  JUDGE'S  Vow  37 

The  princess  was  always  waiting  for  him,  in  her 
basket  by  the  hearth  rug  if  it  were  raining,  or  on 
the  balcony  if  it  were  fine. 

As  soon  as  he  appeared  in  the  doorway  she  flew 
to  meet  him,  lighted  on  his  shoulder,  rubbed  her 
beak  gently  against  his  ear,  saying  "Rookety  cahoo !" 
a  great  number  of  times. 

When  he  put  her  on  the  hardwood  floor  she  would 
circle  round  his  feet,  and  finally  retire  to  her  basket, 
where  she  sat  and  watched  him. 

He  had  become  her  prime  favorite.  She  liked 
Mrs.  Blodgett  and  Higby,  and  she  endured  Titus, 
but  she  loved  the  Judge. 

On  this  particular  day,  or  rather  evening,  she  was 
very  much  disturbed.  The  Judge  had  had  his  nap 
in  the  afternoon,  and  his  drive,  and  his  dinner,  and 
now  in  the  firelight  and  incandescent  light,  when  the 
room  was  snug  and  cozy,  he  ought  to  be  reading  in 
his  big  chair,  with  herself,  the  princess,  on  one  arm 
of  it,  occasionally  getting  her  head  scratched.  But 
instead  of  following  the  usual  order  of  things  he 
was  muttering  to  himself  something  about  a  vow, 
and  was  pacing  about  the  room. 

The  princess  did  not  like  it,  and  showed  her  dis- 
pleasure by  a  succession  of  sulky  "Rookety  cahoos !" 
uttered  from  her  basket. 

After  a  time  the  Judge  rang  the  bell. 

"Jennie,"  he  said  when  the  parlor  maid  appeared, 
"ask  Master  Titus  to  come  here  after  he  finishes 
studying  his  lessons." 

Half  an  hour  later  Titus  came  whistling  down  the 
hall. 

"W-w-well,  grandfather,"  he  said,  as  he  came  into 


38  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

the  study,  "what  do  you  want — a-a-a  game  of  back- 
gammon ?" 

"No,"  said  the  Judge,  "I  want  to  talk  to  you.  Sit 
down." 

Titus  threw  himself  into  a  chair,  and  stared  at 
him. 

"When  you  were  ill,"  began  the  Judge,  "I,  in  my 
extremity,  promised  my  Maker  that  if  you  were 
spared  to  me  I  would  show  my  gratitude  by  adopting 
some  poor  child  who  had  no  home  of  his  own." 

"W-w-whew!"  exclaimed  Titus,  and  he  drew  his 
black  brows  together. 

The  Judge  was  not  surprised.  He  had  feared  that 
Titus  might  be  jealous  of  another  lad. 

He  waited  a  minute  or  two,  then  he  went  on 
firmly:  "This  was  not  blind  impulse.  I  have  all 
my  life  known  that  it  was  not  good  for  a  child  to 
be  brought  up  alone.  Being  alone  tends  to  egotism. 
We  are  very  happy,  you  and  I,  yet  I  know  it  would 
be  better  for  you  to  have  another  lad  to  share  your 
sorrows  and  joys." 

"H-h-he  might  fight  me,"  said  Titus,  gloomily. 

"I  shall  get  one  much  younger  than  you,"  replied 
the  Judge. 

"O-O-O!"  said  Titus,  easily,  "then  I  can  lick 
him." 

"Titus,"  said  the  Judge,  "you  know  that  there  are 
boys  and  girls  in  the  world  less  favored  than  your- 
self." 

"Y-y-yes,  sir,  but  they  are  dirty  and  lazy,  and  they 
have  awful  manners." 

"If  we  get  a  young  child  we  can  mold  him.  I 
feel  it  my  duty,  boy.  I  have  enough  for  you  and 


THE  JUDGE'S  Vow  39 

another  lad.  There  is  a  fearful  amount  of  suffering 
in  the  world.  We  should  do  what  we  can  to  lessen 
it." 

"I-I-I  don't  want  one  of  those  River  Street  cubs," 
said  Titus,  sharply. 

"I  shall  take  the  greatest  pains  to  get  a  boy  of 
good  antecedents,"  said  the  Judge,  decidedly.  "You 
know  that  my  profession  has  brought  me  into  con- 
tact with  crime  and  criminals.  I  have  a  horror  of 
inherited  vicious  tendencies." 

"A-a-all  right,  sir,"  replied  Titus,  with  a  sigh. 
"If  you've  promised  we've  got  to  do  it,"  and  getting 
up  he  walked  over  to  his  grandfather  and  threw  his 
arm  over  his  shoulder. 

Titus  was  a  reserved  boy,  but  just  now  his  slim 
young  figure,  pressed  close  to  the  chair  in  which  the 
Judge  sat,  was  brimful  of  eloquence. 

The  Judge's  lip  quivered.  "Titus,"  he  said, 
slowly,  "I  shall  never  love  another  boy  as  I  love  you, 
and,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  half  wish  now  that  I  had  not 
made  that  vow;  but  I  was  in  dire  trouble,  and  the 
Lord  delivered  me  out  of  it.  Should  I  not  show 
gratitude  ?" 

"Y-y-yes,  sir,"  said  Titus,  hastily.  "We've  had  a 
hard  time.  I  had  thoughts  too,  sir,  when  I  was  lying 
in  bed  so  long.  I've  deceived  you  in  lots  of  things. 
I'm  going  to  be  more  straight — I-I-I  guess  it's  all 
right  to  take  a  kid.  W-w-we'll  bring  him  to  be  just 
like  you  and  me,"  and  with  a  grin  he  rubbed  his 
black  head  against  his  grandfather's  white  one,  and 
then  scampered  away  to  bed. 

Now  the  princess  was  happy.  With  a  great  sigh 
of  relief  the  Judge  settled  himself  back  in  his  chair, 


40  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

pulled  the  reading  light  toward  him,  and  took  up  a 
book. 

Sukey  flew  to  his  side,  and  when  he  became  too 
much  absorbed  in  his  reading  to  rub  her  white  head 
she  leaned  over  and  gently  pecked  his  hand. 

Young  Titus's  illness  had  extended  over  a  long 
and  cold  autumn  and  into  the  first  part  of  December. 
By  Christmas  time  he  was  dashing  about  in  his  old 
way,  though  he  still  had  a  slight  limp.  Only  time 
would  cure  that,  the  doctors  said. 

The  limp  did  not  keep  him  off  his  feet.  From 
morning  till  night  he  was  rushing  about  somewhere, 
and  when  the  Christmas  holidays  came  he  was  sim- 
ply omnipresent. 

According  to  a  long-established  custom,  he  and 
his  grandfather  went  downtown  every  Christmas 
Eve  to  see  the  shops  and  the  people.  They  started 
early  on  this  Christmas  Eve — just  as  soon  as  they 
had  had  their  dinner — and  they  both  would  have 
been  very  much  surprised  if  anyone  had  told  them 
that  during  this  evening  a  chance  would  come  for 
the  fulfillment  of  the  Judge's  vow. 

Ever  since  he  had  mentioned  the  matter  to  Titus 
the  Judge  had  been  quietly  looking  about  for  a  boy. 
He  had  visited  several  orphan  asylums,  and  he  had 
written  to  friends,  but  though  the  orphans  were 
plentiful  he  was  fastidious,  and  so  far  some  defect 
had  been  found  in  every  one  proposed  to  him. 

"This  is  a  joyful  season,  sir,"  said  young  Titus, 
as  he  endeavored  to  stride  along  in  a  manly  fashion 
beside  his  grandfather. 

The  Judge  nodded,  for  this  particular  season  was, 
as  Titus  said,  an  ideal  one.  Enough  snow  had  fallen 


THE  JUDGE'S  Vow  41 

to  make  sleighing  pleasant,  the  air  was  clear  and 
frosty,  but  not  too  sharp,  and  the  days  were  cloud- 
less and  the  nights  bright.  It  was  a  pleasure  to  be 
out. 

The  usual  Christmas  stir  prevailed.  The  streets 
were  full  of  people,  the  shops  were  crowded.  The 
Judge  and  Titus  had  nothing  to  buy.  The  boy  had 
bought  his  presents  for  his  grandfather  and  the 
servants,  and  the  Judge  had  his  gifts  all  neatly  done 
up  and  labeled.  They  were  in  two  of  the  big 
drawers  of  one  of  his  bookcases,  and  Princess  Sukey, 
the  pigeon,  had  been  the  only  one  to  see  them  as 
yet. 

Everything  was  gay  and  cheerful.  Nobody 
seemed  sad,  nobody  sorry.  Boys  and  girls,  men  and 
women,  were  laughing  and  talking  cheerily,  and 
Titus  was  staring  about,  his  eyes  going  this  way  and 
that  way,  until  at  last  his  grandfather  turned  his 
wandering  gaze  in  one  direction  by  saying,  "What 
do  you  suppose  is  the  matter  with  that  boy?" 

Titus  looked  straight  in  front  of  him. 

A  small  child  clad  in  a  long  coat  and  having  on  a 
shabby  fur  cap  was  trotting  along  in  front  of  them. 
Sometimes  he  would  take  several  steps  in  a  straight 
and  assured  way,  then  he  would  falter  and  stagger. 
Once  in  a  while  he  would  reel  up  against  the  shop 
windows.  Upon  one  of  these  occasions  he  pressed 
his  little  face  against  the  frosty  glass  and  gazed  in 
at  the  toys. 

The  child's  cheeks  were  white  and  dirty,  his  eyes 
were  sleepy,  and  Titus  said  in  a  puzzled  way,  "Do 
you  suppose  anyone  would  give  him  anything  to 
make  him  stagger?" 


42  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"Hardly,"  said  the  Judge,  "the  little  fellow  must 
have  extraordinarily  weak  ankles.  Watch  him." 

The  child  set  out  again,  and  this  time  he  stag- 
gered so  badly  that  he  fell  on  the  snowy  pavement. 
There  he  sat  with  his  little  face  bent,  a  curious  smile 
playing  about  his  lips  as  he  gazed,  not  at  the  passers- 
by,  but  down  at  the  ice  and  snow. 

The  Judge  and  Titus  were  the  first  to  reach  him. 
"Here,"  said  the  Judge,  and  he  looked  down  at  the 
child,  "try  again,"  and  he  set  him  on  his  feet. 

The  little  boy  gave  him  a  slow,  scrutinizing 
glance,  then  he  smiled  mysteriously  and  said,  "My 
little  trotters  slipped  on  the  ghosts  of  running 
things." 

"A-a-are  you  ill?"  asked  Titus,  sharply. 

The  child  softly  patted  the  front  of  his  coat  with 
his  mittened  hand,  "They  kept  me  late,  and  Mr.  Rat 
is  at  his  old  tricks." 

"You  are  hungry,"  said  the  Judge. 

The  child  yawned — such  a  tired,  weak  little  yawn 
that,  to  the  Judge's  surprise,  he  tried  to  suppress. 
Then  he  nodded  his  little  head  a  great  many  times. 
"There's  something  in  the  oven  for  me,  but  it's  a 
long  way  there." 

"We  are  obstructing  the  way,"  said  the  Judge, 
and  indeed  many  persons  had  stopped  and  were  lis- 
tening. "Take  his  hand,  Titus — here,  child,  come 
into  this  restaurant." 

Like  one  walking  in  sleep  he  gave  his  hand  to 
Titus,  and  allowed  himself  to  be  led  into  the  bril- 
liantly lighted  white  and  gold  room. 

"W-w-wonder  what  he  thinks  of  it?"  murmured 
Titus  to  himself.  "Here,  boy,  take  off  your  cap." 


THE  JUDGE'S  Vow  43 

The  little  boy  struggled  to  keep  his  hairy  or  almost 
hairless  headgear,  but  Titus  was  inexorable.  He 
finally  gave  it  up.  but  he  gazed  at  Titus  with  a 
slightly  injured  air,  as  the  bigger  boy  handed  the 
shabby  fur  thing  to  the  waiter. 

Then  with  babyish  vanity  he  put  up  a  hand  and 
smoothed  the  thin  crop  of  curls  plastered  down  on 
his  forehead  by  a  band  of  perspiration. 

"What  will  you  have?"  said  the  Judge  to  him 
after  they  had  seated  themselves  at  a  small  table. 

"Cats  like  milk,"  he  said,  dreamily,  "and  dogs 
like  broo." 

Titus  stared  at  him,  then  he  said  under  his  breath 
to  his  grandfather,  "I-i-is  he  crazy  ?" 

"No,  he  is  repeating  a  Scotch  jingle.  'Broo'  is 
broth.  He  is  terribly  tired.  Child,"  he  went  on, 
"would  you  like  me  to  read  you  the  menu?" 

"Please,  sir,"  he  said,  shyly,  and  with  tired  grace 
he  handed  the  Judge  the  bit  of  cardboard  with  which 
he  was  playing. 

The  Judge  elevated  his  eyebrows,  put  on  his  eye- 
glasses, and  took  the  menu  from  him. 

"Oysters,  sir,"  said  the  child,  seriously,  when  the 
Judge  had  run  over  the  list,  "bouillon,  and  Demo- 
crat-Republican ice  cream." 

Democrat-Republican  ice  cream  was  a  specialty 
of  this  same  first-class  restaurant,  and  Titus,  hearing 
this  poverty-stricken  child  show  familiarity  with  its 
merits,  snickered  aloud  in  his  amusement. 

His  grandfather  gave  him  a  warning  glance,  but 
the  child  had  not  heard  him.  He  was  wearily  look- 
ing about  the  pretty  room  with  an  air  that  said,  "I 
have  seen  all  this  before."  Then,  while  waiting  for 


44  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

their  orders  to  be  filled,  he  quietly  dropped  to 
sleep. 

Meanwhile  the  Judge  and  Titus  studied  his  ap- 
pearance. 

"Do  you  see,"  said  the  Judge,  "that  though  his 
face  and  hands  are  dirty  his  wrists  are  clean.  He 
is  only  dirty  outside.  Look  at  his  ragged  little  shirt 
cuffs.  They  are  quite  white — and  how  nicely  his 
coat  is  darned." 

Titus  nodded,  and  as  the  Judge  noted  the  kindly 
look  on  the  boy's  face  as  he  surveyed  the  sleeping 
child  a  light  broke  over  his  own  face.  He  was  not 
romantic  nor  sentimental,  but  he  was  a  religious 
man,  and  he  believed  in  the  leadings  of  Providence. 

He  had  been  guided  to  this  boy.  What  a  brother 
he  would  make  for  Titus — that  is,  and  he  prudently 
added  an  afterthought,  if  he  was  without  incum- 
brances,  and  his  antecedents  were  good — and  mean- 
while the  little  child  slept  on. 

"B-b-boy,"  said  Titus,  presently,  "wake  up,  and 
eat  your  victuals." 

The  child  opened  his  eyes,  smiled  sweetly  at  him, 
and  calmly  took  up  a  fork. 

He  went  to  sleep  between  oysters  and  bouillon. 
and  bouillon  and  ice  cream.  He  slept  putting  a  piece 
of  bread  to  his  mouth — indeed,  he  slept  with  such 
frequency  that  Titus  wondered  how  he  managed  to 
tuck  away  so  much  food. 

At  last  he  had  finished,  and  then  he  did  something 
that  considerably  mystified  the  Judge  and  Titus. 

After  wiping  his  mouth  with  his  napkin  he  put 
the  napkin  on  the  table,  and  unbuttoning  his  coat 
he  slipped  a  hand  in  the  front  of  it. 


THE  JUDGE'S  Vow  45 

As  he  did  this  the  sleepy  look  left  his  eyes,  and  a 
sorrowful  one  came  in  its  place.  Drawing  out  a 
small  handkerchief  with  a  border  of  marvelous  lions 
and  tigers,  he  unrolled  it,  pretended  to  take  some- 
thing out  of  it  and  put  it  on  the  table.  Then  he 
placed  crumbs  of  bread  and  cake  before  this  imag- 
inary thing. 

"W-w-what  are  you  doing?"  asked  Titus,  bluntly. 

"Feeding  the  little  one,"  said  the  child,  solemnly. 

"W-w-what  little  one?    There  isn't  any  there." 

"Don't  you  see  my  little  mouse?"  he  asked,  im- 
patiently. 

"A-a-a  mouse!"  exclaimed  Titus,  "je-whillikens ! 
I  don't  like  mice." 

"He's  dead,"  said  the  child,  softly;  "a  strange 
pussy  killed  him — not  our  pussy." 

"H-h-how  can  you  feed  him  if  he's  dead?"  pur- 
sued Titus,  with  boyish  callousness. 

"But  he  has  a  little  ghost,"  said  the  strange  child, 
gently  shaking  his  head,  "and  I  carry  it  here — have 
you  had  enough,  mousie?"  and  he  tenderly  lowered 
his  head  to  the  table. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  softly  speaking  to  himself;  then 
he  took  up  the  ghost,  wrapped  it  in  his  handker- 
chief, and  put  it  back  in  his  little  bosom. 

The  Judge  felt  a  strange  misgiving.  Another 
animal  enthusiast — and  this  one  worse  than  Titus, 
for  Titus  had  little  imagination,  and  interested  him- 
self only  with  the  live  bodies  of  animals,  not  their 
dead  shades. 

The  mouse  episode  over,  the  child  again  became 
sleepy.  Titus,  who  had  managed  to  dispose  of  some 
ice  cream  himself,  jammed  the  boy's  fur  cap  down  on 


46  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

his  head,  and  guided  his  steps  behind  the  Judge  to 
the  door  of  the  restaurant. 

There  the  child  sank  down  on  the  doorstep. 

"U-u-upon  my  word,"  stuttered  Titus,  "he's  say- 
ing his  prayers.  T-t-this  time  he'll  be  off  for  good — 
must  have  been  drugged." 

"It's  a  case  of  natural  or  unnatural  fatigue,"  said 
his  grandfather.  "Drugs  would  probably  cause  him 
to  sleep  uninterruptedly.  Go  get  a  sleigh  and  we 
will  drive  him  home.  Child,"  and  he  bent  down  and 
slightly  shook  him,  "where  do  you  live?" 

"Forty-five  River  Street,"  he  replied,  drowsily, 
"at  Mrs.  Tingsby's." 

When  he  found  himself  lifted  in  among  warm 
fur  sleigh  robes  he  slept  more  soundly  than  ever. 

"River  Street — River  Street,"  said  the  Judge. 
"Poor  child!" 

In  a  short  time  they  had  left  the  crowded,  brightly 
lighted  streets,  and  were  traversing  the  long,  dingy 
narrow  one  that  Titus  so  much  disliked. 

On  one  side  of  the  street  there  were  wharves  be- 
hind the  houses.  The  traffic  for  the  day  was  over, 
and  the  wharves  were  dull  and  deserted,  but  there 
was  some  life  on  the  street,  particularly  about  the 
saloons  and  small  shops. 

Even  River  Street  must  have  its  Christmas  Eve. 

"Forty-five,"  said  the  driver,  "here  it  is,"  and  he 
stopped  beside  a  narrow  house — the  middle  one  of 
three  dingy,  uninviting  dwellings. 

"Mere  shells  of  buildings,"  muttered  the  Judge, 
glancing  up  at  the  houses,  "and  the  poor  haven't 
coal  to  heat  them,  while  we  with  well  built  houses 
have  plenty  of  fuel," 


47 

When  the  sleigh  stopped,  and  the  merry  jingle 
of  the  horses'  bells  ceased,  a  curtain  was  pulled  aside 
from  a  window  of  number  forty-five,  then  the  door 
flew  open,  and  a  thin  slip  of  a  woman  in  a  cotton 
dress  ran  out  to  meet  them. 

"O,  the  child !  the  child !— don't  say  death  to  me !" 

"Motherly  anxiety,"  commented  the  Judge  to  him- 
self, and  strange  to  say  his  heart  sank.  If  the  boy 
had  a  mother  he  would  never  get  him. 

He  stared  at  the  excited  wisp  of  a  woman  who 
was  dragging  the  child  from  the  fur  robes,  and  was 
violently  hugging  him.  "O,  Bethany !  Bethany !  you 
aint  dead." 

"Dead,  no,"  said  the  Judge,  "he  is  only  asleep," 
and  he  proceeded  to  tell  the  woman  the  story  of 
their  finding  the  child. 

She  listened  to  him,  holding  her  head  up,  and  with 
a  strained  expression  on  her  thin  face,  and  after  a 
time  the  Judge  stopped  talking,  for  he  discovered 
that  she  had  not  heard  a  word  of  what  he  was  saying. 

"I'm  deef !"  she  exclaimed,  "deefer  than  that  iron 
post.  Come  in,  come  in,"  and  clutching  the  little 
boy  firmly  by  the  hand  she  backed  into  a  tiny  hall, 
and  threw  open  the  door  of  a  small  front  room  where 
a  table  was  set  as  if  for  a  meal. 

"Wait  for  us,"  said  the  Judge  to  the  cabman,  then 
he  followed  her. 

The  cloth  on  the  table  was  white  but  threadbare, 
and  the  appointments  were  all  so  meager  that  the 
Judge  averted  his  head.  He  had  a  tender  heart,  and 
now  that  he  was  getting  toward  old  age  the  awful 
inequality  between  the  lot  of  the  rich  and  the  poor 
struck  a  painful  sympathy  to  his  heart. 


48  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"What  makes  this  boy  so  sleepy?"  he  asked,  point- 
ing to  the  little  child. 

The  woman  saw  his  gesture.  "Ah !  sir,"  she  said, 
"it's  cruel  to  keep  them  so  late.  They  begin  work 
at  nine  in  the  morning." 

"Work!"  echoed  Titus. 

His  clear  young  voice  reached  the  deaf  woman's 
ear. 

"That  there  child,"  she  said,  pointing  to  the  little 
boy,  who  was  sitting  on  a  small  stool  stifling  yawns, 
"has  been  at  work  sence  nine  this  morning  with  bare 
an  hour  for  lunch — just  as  sure  as  I'm  a  livin' 
woman." 

"What  work  does  he  do  ?"  asked  the  Judge. 

The  woman  did  not  hear  him,  but  she  guessed 
what  his  question  would  be. 

"From  nine  to  five  is  the  hours,  and  in  the  sight 
of  my  Maker  I  vow  I'd  not  let  any  child  in  my  care 
go  to  sech  slavery,  if  it  weren't  that  I'm  so  hard 
pressed  that  upon  my  word  the  soul  is  fairly  racked 
out  of  me  to  get  victuals  for  my  children." 

"What  does  he  do  ?"  roared  the  Judge  in  her  ear. 

"Do,  sir — makes  paper  boxes.  You  know  about 
Christmas  time  how  the  rich  folks  must  have  boxes 
to  put  their  candy  in.  The  contracts  for  boxes  is  let 
out  to  men  who  swallow  up  the  poor.  There's  doz- 
ens of  poor  children  a-slavin'  in  this  city,  agin'  the 
law  and  unbeknownst  to  the  law.  I  wish  the  Lord 
had  never  made  Christmas.  It's  a  good  time  for 
the  rich.  You  take  out  your  fat  pocketbooks  an' 
order  presents  for  each  other,  an'  you  wait  till  the 
last  minute,  an'  then  the  poor  has  to  go  to  work." 

The  Judge  wrinkled  his  white  brows. 


THE  JUDGE'S  Vow  49 

"Look  at  that  table,  sir,"  continued  the  woman, 
"set  sence  five  o'clock  this  evenin' — the  time  the 
poor  is  supposed  to  git  off.  Look  at  the  sour  bread 
the  baker  sells  us,  an'  the  salt  butter  the  grocer 
weighs  us,  an'  the  molasses,  an'  rind  of  cheese. 
That's  our  Christmas  Eve  supper,  but  sech  as  it  is 
it's  been  waitin'  for  hours  for  my  boarders." 

The  Judge  said  nothing,  but  his  gaze  went  round 
the  shabby  room.  Nothing  more  unlike  his  idea  of 
a  boarding  house  could  be  imagined. 

The  little  thin  woman  with  the  sharp  eyes  inter- 
preted his  glance. 

"Yes,  sir,  I  earns  my  livin'  by  keepin'  boarders — 
ever  sence  my  husband  was  poisoned  to  death  by 
work  in  the  city  sewers.  There's  that  boarder,"  and 
she  pointed  to  a  plate  on  the  table — "Matthew  Jones. 
He  works  in  a  fur  store — overtime  now,  because  it's 
Christmas,  and  some  grand  lady  must  have  her  set 
of  sables  to-night.  The  light  is  poor  in  his  work- 
room, an'  his  eyes  is  bad,  but  no  matter — he's  got 
to  work  or  be  fired.  Then  next  to  him  sits  Harry 
Ray.  He's  in  the  express  employ.  Only  seventeen, 
an'  an  orphan.  He's  drivin'  till  one  and  two  every 
night  now,  an'  eatin'  his  lunch  on  his  seat  in  his 
cart.  He's  got  an  awful  cold.  After  Christmas 
he'll  likely  take  time  to  have  newmania  or  grip. 
Then  there's  old  man  Fanley.  He's  carryin'  parcels 
for  a  small  firm — poor  old  soul,  stumblin'  round  in 
the  cold  at  night  when  he  ought  to  be  in  bed.  O! 
sir,  we  don't  hate  work,  we  poor  uns,  we'll  slave  all 
day,  but  I  do  think  the  rich  might  let  us  have  our 
nights.  We'd  serve  'em  better,  sir,  we  would." 

The  Judge  bent  his  white  head  and  nodded  it 


5o  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

sadly.  At  times  there  seemed  no  joy,  no  pleasure 
in  life,  only  stern  taskmasters  and  shrinking  slaves. 

"It's  hardest  on  the  children,"  pursued  the  woman 
in  a  lower  tone.  "My  heart  bleeds  for  'em.  I've 
just  got  me  own  in  bed.  They're  all  workin'  too, 
now  that  it's  holiday  time.  I  was  just  waitin'  for 
this  stray  lamb,"  and  her  glance  softened  as  it  fell 
on  the  bobbing  form  of  the  sleeping  child. 

The  Judge  raised  his  head.  "Isn't  this  your 
child?"  he  asked,  sharply. 

The  woman  turned  to  Titus.    "What  do  he  say?" 

Titus  repeated  the  question,  and  she  intently 
watched  the  motion  of  his  lips. 

"My  child!"  she  exclaimed.  "O,  law  no!  Look 
at  my  hair,  sir,  black  as  a  crow's.  Those  curls  be 
quite  light,"  and  she  stepped  over  and  laid  a  hand 
on  the  child's  head. 

"Whose  child  is  he  ?"  asked  the  Judge. 

The  woman  turned  to  Titus  with  an  impatient 
gesture.  "You  say  it.  His  mustache  do  cover  his 
lips.  I  can't  see  'em." 

"P-parents,"  cried  Titus,  "of  that  boy.  Who  is 
his  mother?" 

"Mother!"  repeated  Mrs.  Tingsby,  "nay,  that  I 
can't  say  till  I  finds  an  owner  for  the  child.  'Susan 
Tingsby,'  said  his  ma  when  she  lay  a-dyin'  in  this 
very  house,  'Susan  Tingsby,  you've  been  a  good 
friend  to  me.  When  the  Lord  sends  some  one  to 
take  my  baby  tell  my  poor  story,  such  as  it  is' — an', 
sir,  I've  kept  the  child  these  ten  months.  Often 
I've  hardly  had  bread  for  me  own,  but  the  child  of 
the  stranger  never  suffered." 

The  Judge  sat  quietly  for  a  few  minutes.    Now 


THE  JUDGE'S  Vow  51 

that  his  attention  was  called  to  the  fact  that  the 
woman  was  not  the  child's  mother  he  saw  quite  a 
difference  in  their  faces.  Mrs.  Tingsby's  sharp,  dark 
features  were  very  unlike  the  pale,  plump  face  of  the 
little  one. 

"Yes!"  she  suddenly  ejaculated,  "the  child's  fat 
enough." 

The  Judge  looked  at  her.  Though  deaf  she  was 
not  stupid,  and  she  was  marvelously  clever  at  under- 
standing one's  thoughts. 

"The  children  of  the  poor  is  mostly  that,"  she 
continued.  "Much  sour  bread  puffs  'em  out,  an' 
likewise  fresh  air  which  they  has  plenty  of.  But 
bless  your  heart,  it  aint  good  flesh  like  rich  chil- 
dren's. Newmania  and  consumption  takes  'em  off 
like  smoke." 

"Ask  her  to  what  station  in  life  the  boy's  mother 
belonged,"  said  the  Judge  to  Titus. 

"W-w-was  its  mother  a  lady?"  vociferated  the 
boy,  with  a  nod  toward  the  child. 

"A  lady !  Well,  I  guess  so,"  replied  Mrs.  Tingsby, 
indignantly,  "as  much  as  you  be.  She  were  a  school- 
teacher— out  of  New  York.  I  know  her  maiden 
name.  Her  husband's  name  weren't  nothin'  remark- 
able. I  don't  mind  sayin'  it.  It  were  Smith." 

"Ask  her  what  the  husband's  character  was,"  said 
the  Judge. 

"H-h-husband,"  continued  Titus,  "was  he  good  ?" 

"He  were  an  imp,"  said  Mrs.  Tingsby,  shortly. 

"An  imp,"  murmured  the  Judge.  "Go  on,  Titus, 
extract  some  more  information.  You  can  guess 
pretty  well  what  I  want  to  know." 

"W-w-what  do  you  mean  by  an  imp?"  stuttered 


52  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

the  boy,  speaking  very  slowly,  and  shaping  his  words 
well  with  his  mouth. 

"Well,  young  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Tingsby,  ironically, 
"when  you  grows  up  and  marries  a  wife,  and  goes 
off  an'  leaves  her  in  a  poor  boardin'  place  like  this, 
an'  only  comes  home  once  in  a  while,  an'  takes  her 
an'  the  child  to  a  swell  restaurant  for  lunch,  an' 
then  goes  off  an'  leaves  her  to  bread  and  molasses 
again,  I'll  say  you  are  an  imp." 

"I-I-I  don't  care  much  for  this  woman,"  said  the 
abashed  Titus  under  his  breath  to  his  grandfather. 

"Never  mind,  boy — she  means  well.  Ask  some 
more  questions.  What  was  the  husband's  business  ?" 

Titus  grinned  in  an  embarrassed  way.  "W-w- 
what  was  the  imp's  business  ?"  he  inquired. 

"Servin'  his  master,"  said  the  woman,  shortly,  and 
with  a  glance  at  the  now  sleeping  child,  "an'  some- 
times gettin'  big  pay,  an'  sometimes  poor — what's 
his  business?"  and  she  abruptly  jerked  a  forefinger 
in  the  Judge's  direction. 

"H-h-he's  a  judge,"  said  the  boy,  proudly,  "re- 
tired a  few  years  ago — o-o-on  account  of  ill  health," 
he  added ;  "but  he's  all  right  now." 

"Ah!"  replied  Mrs.  Tingsby,  and  still  staring  at 
the  Judge  she  addressed  him  significantly,  "maybe 
you've  seen  him  purfessionally." 

Judge  Bancroft  felt  an  inward  recoil,  though  he 
said  nothing.  But  he  rose  almost  immediately,  and 
looked  at  his  grandson. 

Mrs.  Tingsby  was  a  remarkably  shrewd  woman. 
Under  the  Judge's  reserved  exterior  she  saw  plainly 
that  his  heart  had  been  going  out  to  the  orphan 
child. 


THE  JUDGE'S  Vow  53 

"The  father  is  dead,"  she  said,  briefly,  "buried  by 
the  mother — an'  she  were  a  saint  on  earth,  an'  is 
now  a  saint  in  heaven." 

The  Judge  said  nothing,  and  picking  up  his  fur 
gloves  he  slowly  began  to  draw  them  on. 

Mrs.  Tingsby's  strained,  eager  face  was  bent  on 
him.  "The  father  of  the  imp  were  a  minister  of  the 
gospel,"  she  continued,  "an'  the  imp's  wife — " 

She  paused  an  instant.  The  dead  woman  had  told 
her  clearly  not  to  reveal  her  maiden  name  except  to 
the  person  who  would  adopt  her  child;  but  Mrs. 
Tingsby  was  so  sure  that  this  person  stood  before 
her  that  she  made  up  her  mind  to  a  slight  breach 
of  confidence. 

"The  mother  were  a  Hittaker,"  she  said,  grandly. 

The  Judge  had  never  heard  of  the  Hittakers,  and 
therefore  did  not  look  impressed. 

The  woman  in  her  anxiety  pulled  Titus  by  the 
sleeve.  "Ask  him — aint  he  heard  of  Hittaker — big 
soap  manufacturer.  Why,  it's  in  all  the  groceries." 

Titus  shook  his  head.  He  saw  that  his  grand- 
father did  not  know  the  name. 

"Inquire  why  she  does  not  apply  to  these  people," 
said  Judge  Bancroft. 

Titus  asked  her. 

"Apply  to  'em!  Bless  you,  didn't  she?  What 
won't  a  woman  do  for  her  child.  But  her  own  par- 
ents be  dead.  These  Hittakers  be  uncle  and  cousin 
to  her,  an'  they  wouldn't  do  a  thing — sent  back  her 
last  letter." 

The  Judge  got  up.  "I'll  send  some  one  to  you," 
he  said.  "Titus,  you  tell  her.  I'll  report  her  case, 
and  have  some  aid  given  her." 


54  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Titus  in  his  boyish  fashion  rattled  off  a  sentence. 
"M-m-my  grandfather  will  send  help  to  you.  May- 
be he  can  get  the  child  a  home." 

Mrs.  Tingsby  laid  a  lean  hand  on  Titus,  but  she 
looked  at  his  grandfather.  "An'  you  don't  want 
the  orphan  yourself,  sir?" 

The  Judge  shook  his  head. 

Mrs.  Tingsby  locked  her  hands  together.  "I  like 
your  face,  sir.  There  has  been  people  fancy  in'  the 
child,  but  I  didn't  fancy  'em." 

Judge  Bancroft  smiled  faintly.  Then  his  hand 
went  toward  his  pocket. 

The  little  woman's  face  flushed  crimson.  "I'm 
no  beggar,  sir.  I've  no  wish  for  money  I  can't 
earn."  The  Judge  put  out  a  hand  and  took  hers. 
"Titus,  shake  hands  with  her,"  he  said. 

"G-g-grandfather,"  ejaculated  the  boy  as  they 
stepped  over  the  threshold  of  the  door  leading  into 
the  little  dark  hall,  "look  at  her !" 

Mrs.  Tingsby  stood  holding  the  small  lamp  aloft 
for  them,  with  tears  running  down  her  cheeks, 
and  a  painful,  almost  terrified,  expression  in  her 
eyes. 

"I've  told  a  dead  woman's  secret,  sir,"  she  said 
in  response  to  the  Judge's  look  of  inquiry.  "I've 
risked  me  soul,  an'  it  aint  done  no  good." 

The  woman's  expression  of  suffering  was  so  genu- 
ine that  the  Judge  stopped  short.  How  cruel  to  lay 
another  burden  on  this  already  overburdened 
back! 

She  was  an  honest  woman,  he  could  see  that.  He 
had  had  a  long  experience  in  the  study  of  hun>  n 
nature,  and  she  would  not  have  been  able  to  deceive 


THE  JUDGE'S  Vow  55 

him  if  she  had  wished.  Suppose  he  took  the  child 
from  her.  With  his  connections  and  influence  he 
could  easily  find  a  home  for  it. 

"Madam,"  he  said,  courteously,  and  stepping 
back,  "this  is  Christmas  Eve,  and  from  my  heart 
I  wish  you  good  cheer.  If  it  will  give  you  pleasure, 
I  am  willing  to  take  the  child,  and  to  pledge  myself 
to  find  a  good  home  for  him." 

The  woman  again  twitched  Titus  by  the  sleeve. 
She  had  partly,  but  not  wholly,  understood. 

Titus,  who  was  getting  excited,  stopped  stuttering 
and  told  her. 

When  he  finished  she  turned  round,  set  the  lamp 
down  on  the  table,  and  threw  up  her  hands. 

"Thank  the  Lord!  Thank  the  Lord!  Here, 
duckie,  old  Mother  Tingsby  has  found  you  a  home. 
Stir  up,  and  go  with  the  gentleman,"  and  in  fever- 
ish haste  she  aroused  the  sleeping  child,  got  him  on 
his  feet  and  put  his  cap  on  his  head. 

"Well,  well,"  said  the  Judge,  in  some  hesitation, 
"I  did  not  think  of  taking  him  to-night." 

The  woman  did  not  hear  him,  though  she  spoke 
as  if  she  had.  "Better  have  it  over  in  darkness,  with 
none  to  see  and  none  to  hear.  I  don't  want  to  drag 
down  that  sweet  woman's  child  by  any  connection 
with  me.  Ah !  sir,  she  was  like  a  sister  to  me.  I'll 
miss  her  child,"  and  with  very  genuine  regret  she 
embraced  the  bewildered  little  boy. 

"I  assure  you,"  vociferated  the  Judge,  "that  I  am 
not  in  the  habit  of  doing  things  in  secret.  I  do  not 
care  who  knows  that  I  have  taken  a  poor  child  from 
Ri  *  Street." 

Mrs.  Tingsby  did  not  hear  him,  and  Titus  was  too 


56  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

excited  to  report,  so  the  Judge  slightly  shrugged  his 
shoulders. 

"I'll  miss  my  baby — I'll  miss  my  baby !"  she  cried, 
"for  there's  not  a  soul  younger  in  the  house  but 
the  kitten — good-bye,  pet — good-bye.  Old  Mother 
Tingsby  will  sometimes  sneak  up  to  look  in  your 
windows.  Sir,  you'll  never  give  up  this  child — 
you'll  let  your  soul  go  first." 

The  Judge  smiled  slightly,  and  catching  this  smile 
she  suddenly  flung  up  her  black  head  and  fixed  two 
shrewd  eyes  on  him. 

"Sir,  don't  you  be  afraid  of  no  fathers  an'  grand- 
fathers. Some  of  my  boarders  was  talkin'  the  other 
evenin'.  Says  one  of  'em,  says  he,  'I've  been  readin' 
a  magazine  article.  It  says  everyone  of  us  has  had 
thieves  an'  robbers  in  our  ancestors.'  Do  you  be- 
lieve that,  sir?" 

The  Judge,  in  a  slightly  bewildered  state  of  mind, 
was  pushing  his  way  out  to  the  hall  door,  beyond 
this  flood  of  talk.  He  had  a  feeling  that  he  would 
like  to  reach  the  quiet  of  his  own  home,  and  think 
things  over.  However,  some  sort  of  an  answer 
was  due  to  her,  so  he  turned  once  more.  "I  would 
rather  have  had  that  boy's  father  an  honest 
man." 

Mrs.  Tingsby  was  so  close  on  his  heels,  and  was 
listening  so  intently,  that  she  caught  a  few  words. 

"Boy — yes !"  she  exclaimed,  nodding  her  head  at 
Titus,  and  grinning  amiably,  "an  honest  boy !" 

"I  say,"  roared  the  Judge,  stopping  short,  "that  I 
wish  your  little  boy  had  had  an  unblemished  par- 
entage." 

"My  boy,"  she  responded,  sadly,  "my  boy — why, 


THE  JUDGE'S  Vow  57 

sir,  I  have  three — an'  how  I'm  goin'  to  raise  'em  the 
Lord  knows." 

Meanwhile  the  child  was  drawing  back.  He  was 
now  thoroughly  roused  from  sleep,  and  his  little  face 
was  quite  disturbed. 

"Mother  Tingsby,"  he  said,  pulling  at  the  wom- 
an's gown,  and  drawing  down  her  ear  to  his  small 
mouth,  "is  this  the  husband  of  the  good  third 
mother?" 

"Yes,  lamb,  yes,"  said  the  woman,  nodding  her 
head  a  great  many  times,  "an'  your  second  mother 
bids  you  go.  Be  good  an'  clever." 

The  child  gave  her  an  anguished  glance.  He  did 
not  wish  to  go  with  these  strangers.  However,  he 
had  been  trained  to  look  forward  to  just  such  an 
event,  and  he  made  no  protest.  Putting  his  little 
hand  in  the  one  that  Titus  held  out,  he  followed  the 
Judge  to  the  street. 


CHAPTER  V 
A  SURPRISE  FOR  THE  JUDGE 

No  one  spoke  on  the  way  home.  The  Judge  and 
Titus  on  the  back  seat  of  the  sleigh  scarcely  took 
their  eyes  from  the  serious,  little  face  of  the 
strangely  pale,  quiet  child  opposite. 

He  was  not  sleepy  now.  They  could  see  the  two 
large  brown  eyes  shining  with  the  steady  light  of 
two  solemn  stars. 

When  they  reached  their  home  on  the  avenue, 
Titus  politely  assisted  the  child  to  alight,  and  took 
his  hand  as  they  went  up  the  long  steps. 

Higby  had  gone  to  bed,  and  the  parlor-maid's 
face  as  she  opened  the  door  was  a  study.  Nobody 
explained  matters  to  her,  and  in  a  complete  state  of 
mystification  she  was  sent  to  request  Mrs.  Blodgett's 
immediate  presence  in  the  parlor. 

Titus  had  lifted  the  little  stranger  to  a  chair,  and 
was  drawing  off  his  cap  and  mittens. 

"Mrs.  Blodgett,"  said  the  Judge,  when  that  good 
woman  appeared,  "I  wish  you  to  take  charge  of  this 
child.  Put  him  to  sleep  at  once.  If  he  is  nervous, 
some  one  must  sleep  in  the  room  with  him.  Don't 
give  him  a  bath  to-night.  He  is  very  tired.  In  the 
morning  dress  him  and  bring  him  down  to  break- 
fast." 

Mrs.  Blodgett,  in  amazement,  looked  down  at 
the  shabby  child.  Who  was  this  ?  She  was  not  fond 


A  SURPRISE  FOR  THE  JUDGE  59 

of  children,  except  her  own — and  poor  and  dirty 
children  she  detested. 

However,  a  little  hand  was  stealing  into  hers.  A 
tired,  unhappy  face  was  looking  trustfully  up  at  her, 
seeking  the  kind  glances  of  a  third  mother. 

Mrs.  Blodgett  would  have  been  less  than  a  woman 
if  she  could  have  resisted.  This  was  probably  some 
child  who  was  here  only  for  the  night. 

"Yes,  sir,"  she  said,  respectfully,  and  with  the 
little  boy  clinging  closely  to  her,  instead  of  bestow- 
ing glances  on  the  Judge  and  Titus,  she  went 
upstairs. 

The  Judge  and  his  grandson  did  not  talk  much 
that  night.  The  Judge  slowly  sipped  his  glass  of 
hot  milk  and  then  went  to  bed.  He  lived  a  quiet 
life,  and  the  adventure  of  the  evening  had  given  him 
many  problems  to  think  over. 

Titus  was  quite  excited.  Ordinarily  the  approach 
of  Christmas  Day  did  not  stir  him  very  much,  but 
now  that  there  was  another  young  person  in  the 
house  he  felt  his  pulse  quickened.  This  strange  boy 
must  have  some  presents.  Should  he  give  him  some 
of  his  new  ones,  or  would  old  ones  be  sufficient? 
He  would  consult  his  grandfather  about  it.  He  had 
a  lot  of  old  toys  up  in  the  attic.  To-morrow  morn- 
ing he  would  ask  Higby  to  get  them  down,  or, 
better  still,  he  would  take  the  youngster  up  there. 
Poor  little  chap — how  mean  to  make  him  work, 
and  with  some  hitherto  unknown  generous  im- 
pulses animating  his  sturdy  young  breast  Titus  fell 
asleep. 

He  was  late  for  breakfast  the  next  morning.  His 
grandfather  had  already  had  prayers,  the  servants 


60  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

had  scattered  to  their  various  employments,  and 
Higby  was  just  taking  in  a  second  supply  of  coffee 
to  the  dining  room. 

"B-b-beg  pardon,  grandfather,"  said  Titus,  hur- 
rying in  after  the  man.  "I-I-I  fell  asleep  again  after 
Higby  knocked  at  my  door.  M-merry  Christmas 
and  many  of  them !"  and  seating  himself  at  the  table 
he  looked  around  in  great  approbation. 

The  long  handsome  room  was  flooded  with  sun- 
light. 

"G-g-good  old  sun,"  ejaculated  Titus,  approv- 
ingly. "I-I-I  can  dress  better  when  he  shines  on 
me.  I-I-I  hate  the  dark,  early  part  of  the  morning. 
W-where's  the  child,  sir  ?" 

The  Judge  looked  toward  the  door.  Higby  was 
just  throwing  it  open  for  Mrs.  Blodgett  and  her 
charge. 

Then  an  amusing  scene  took  place.  In  the  door- 
way stood  Mrs.  Blodgett,  and  a  pale,  pretty  little 
girl  dressed  in  a  dainty  white  cloth  dress  trimmed 
with  gold  braid. 

The  Judge  and  Titus  looked  at  Mrs.  Blodgett. 
They  both  knew  that  she  possessed  a  little  grand- 
daughter of  whom  she  was  inordinately  proud.  This 
child  sometimes  came  to  the  house,  and  she  often 
presented  her  to  the  Judge  for  a  word  or  a  kind 
glance. 

Just  now  he  gave  both — "A  merry  Christmas, 
little  one.  Come  here  and  get  an  orange.  Mrs. 
Blodgett,  how  is  the  boy  this  morning?" 

Mrs.  Blodgett  pushed  the  child,  who  did  not  seem 
inclined  to  leave  her,  toward  the  Judge,  then  she 
said  in  a  puzzled  way,  "The  boy,  sir?" 


A  SURPRISE  FOR  THE  JUDGE  61 

"Yes — the  boy  I  brought  home  last  night,"  re- 
plied the  Judge. 

"The  boy,  sir,"  she  repeated  in  amazement,  while 
an  additional  flood  of  color  swept  over  her  rubicund 
face.  "There  weren't  no  boy,  sir." 

The  Judge  gazed  patiently  at  her.  Mrs.  Blodgett 
was  getting  older.  He  had  noticed  several  times 
lately  that  she  seemed  a  little  stupid  and  did  not 
understand  quickly  what  was  said  to  her. 

"You  surely  remember  the  little  boy  I  brought 
home  with  me  last  evening?" 

Mrs.  Blodgett  gazed  up  at  the  ceiling,  down  at 
the  floor,  under  the  table,  and  behind  her  out  into 
the  hall  as  if  seeking  a  lost  child. 

Then  she  said,  faintly,  "As  I  am  a  mortal  woman, 
sir,  I  didn't  see  no  boy,  sir.  He  must  have  slipped 
off  on  the  doorstep.  I  know  these  poor  children. 
They're  sneaky  as  foxes." 

"No,  he  did  not  slip  away,"  said  the  Judge,  with 
a  quiet  smile.  "I  brought  him  in  and  gave  him  to 
you." 

Mrs.  Blodgett's  face  was  purple,  and  she  turned 
to  Higby  in  quiet  exasperation.  "Now,  if  you'd 
been  about,  instead  of  bein'  in  bed,  I'd  have  said  it 
was  some  of  them  queer  tricks  of  yours." 

"Do  not  make  a  scapegoat  of  Higby,"  said  the 
Judge,  decidedly,  "but  let  your  memory  go  back  to 
last  evening.  This  is  a  serious  matter,  Mrs.  Blodg- 
ett. I  had  a  young  boy  in  my  charge.  I  am  an- 
swerable for  his  safety.  I  brought  him  in  the  house 
and  gave  him  into  your  care.  Now,  what  has  be- 
come of  him  ?" 

"Lawks-a-massy !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Blodgett,  join- 


62  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

ing  her  hands  in  embarrassment  and  staring  wildly 
about  her,  "Is  it  you,  Judge  Sancroft,  speakin',  and 
am  I,  Dorinda  Blodgett,  a-listenin' ?" 

"You  seem  to  be  listening,"  remarked  the  Judge, 
dryly,  "but  you  certainly  are  not  understanding. 
Please  go  away  and  search  your  memory  and  the 
house  for  that  boy.  Titus,  what  is  the  matter  with 
you?" 

"Are  you  crazy,  too  ?"  the  Judge  felt  like  adding, 
but  fortunately  for  himself  he  did  not  do  so.  While 
he  had  been  speaking  the  child  had  been  creeping 
shyly  toward  him,  and  Titus's  eyes  were  glued  on 
her.  The  Judge  turned  his  eyes  quickly  on  the  little 
girl.  Now  that  he  examined  her  more  closely  he 
saw  that  this  was  no  offspring  from  the  Blodgett 
stock.  Where  had  he  seen  before  that  thin  band  of 
curls,  those  big,  solemn  eyes  ? 

"Sir,"  Mrs.  Blodgett  was  sniffling  miserably, 
while  she  made  a  ball  of  her  pocket  handkerchief, 
"you  aint  never  doubted  my  word  afore.  It's  time 
for  me  to  quit  your  service." 

"I  am  not  doubting  your  word,"  he  said,  absently, 
"only — "  and  he  again  stared  at  the  child. 

"Where  did  you  get  this  little  girl?"  he  asked, 
shortly. 

"  "Tis  the  same  little  girl  you  brought  in  last 
evenin',  sir,  the  same  little  girl  what  weren't  accom- 
panied by  no  boy,  sure  as  I'm  alive.  Jennie,  she 
saw  her — ask  her  if  there  were  a  boy  too." 

"Upon  my  word!"  exclaimed  the  Judge,  bring- 
ing his  hand  down  on  the  table.  "Upon  my 
word!" 

Titus's  eyes  were  absolutely  sticking  out  of  his 


A  SURPRISE  FOR  THE  JUDGE  63 

head.  Then  he  began  to  cough,  then  to  laugh,  then 
to  choke. 

"Sir,"  said  Mrs.  Blodgett,  uneasily,  "she  were 
dressed  something  like  a  boy  outside,  but  inside  was 
such  a  miserable  little  frock  that  I  took  the  liberty 
of  putting  on  her  one  of  my  grandchild,  Mary  Ann's, 
outgrown  party  ones  that  I'm  goin'  to  give  to  an 
orphan  asylum." 

Still  the  Judge  did  not  speak,  and  Mrs.  Blodgett 
went  on.  "  'Pears  to  me,  now  I  think  of  it,  you  did 
tell  me  to  take  this  little  boy  an'  put  him  to  bed. 
I  didn't  pay  no  attention,  sir.  As  much  as  I  honors 
you,  I  couldn't  think  to  change  my  Maker's  decrees 
by  makin'  a  little  girl  a  little  boy." 

"O,  grandfather!"  gasped  Titus,  half  under  the 
table.  "O!O!  grandfather!" 

The  Judge's  face  relaxed,  then  he  looked  about 
him  and  began  to  smile.  Then  he  laughed — laughed 
so  heartily  that  Mrs.  Blodgett,  who  was  no  simple- 
ton, and  who  was  beginning  to  understand,  joined 
in.  Higby,  delighted  to  find  no  share  of  mismanage- 
ment attributed  to  him,  snickered  agreeably,  and 
even  the  maids  who  had  just  come  up  from  the 
kitchen  and  were  going  to  their  work  in  different 
parts  of  the  house,  hearing  the  sound  of  enjoyable 
laughter,  echoed  it  light-heartedly. 

"This  is  a  good  Christmas  joke  on  you  and  me, 
Titus,"  said  the  Judge  at  last,  putting  his  handker- 
chief to  his  face  to  wipe  his  eyes.  "It  is  said  that 
one  finds  what  one  looks  for.  We  were  looking  for 
a  boy,  and  we  persuaded  ourselves  that  we  had 
found  one." 

"Did  that  woman  try  to  deceive  you,  sir  ?"  asked 


64  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Titus,  drawing  his  head  from  under  the  table  and 
casting  a  comical  glance  at  his  grandfather,  then  at 
the  little  girl. 

"No,  she  had  the  appearance  of  an  honest  woman, 
but  her  deafness  prevented  her  from  hearing  us 
fully.  Now  that  I  think  of  it,  she  did  not  once  say 
that  the  child  was  a  boy.  We  jumped  to  that  con- 
clusion. Why  did  you  not  tell  us  what  you  were?" 
and  he  turned  to  the  child. 

She  gave  him  a  quiet  smile  that  assured  him  that 
she  had  not  intentionally  deceived  him,  and  then 
he  saw  that  her  mouth  was  parched  and  open,  and 
that  her  lips  moved  slightly  as  she  looked  beyond 
him  toward  the  table. 

"You  are  hungry,"  he  said,  courteously.  "Higby, 
lift  her  to  her  seat." 

The  child  looked  over  her  shoulder  at  Mrs.  Blodg- 
ett.  She  wished  to  sit  down  at  the  table  with  her, 
and  with  a  deeply  gratified  smile  the  housekeeper 
stepped  forward  and  arranged  her  in  her  chair.  That 
glance  would  be  set  down  to  the  little  stranger's 
credit. 

"I  have  to  beg  your  pardon,  Mrs.  Blodgett,"  said 
the  Judge.  "There  was  a  misunderstanding  all 
round.  This  little  girl  is  an  orphan.  I  offered  to 
find  a  home  for  her,  thinking  that  she  was  a  boy 
because  she  was  dressed  like  one.  She  has  probably 
had  on  the  borrowed  garments  of  a  little  boy  be- 
longing to  the  kind  woman  who  has  taken  care  of 
her." 

"It's  all  right,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Blodgett.  "I  might 
a-remembered  what  you  said.  I  call  back  now  that 
you  told  me  plainly  she  was  a  boy,  but,  as  I  said 


A  SURPRISE  FOR  THE  JUDGE  65 

afore,  you  can't  change  nater,"  and  with  another 
gratified  smile  she  waddled  away. 

Meanwhile  Titus,  having  recovered,  or  nearly  re- 
covered, himself,  for  he  found  it  necessary  to  drop 
his  napkin  on  the  floor  every  two  minutes  and  to 
be  a  long  time  in  picking  it  up,  stared  almost  unin- 
terruptedly at  the  little  girl. 

She  was  eating  an  orange  that  the  Judge  had 
given  her,  eating  it  prettily  and  quietly  and  without 
splashing  the  juice  on  her  white  gown,  and  casting 
meantime  curious  and  searching  glances  about  the 
room. 

The  boy  or  girl  problem  disturbed  the  Judge  some- 
what. He  could  not  get  it  out  of  his  head  that  she 
was  a  boy.  It  was  extremely  disappointing  that  she 
was  not,  for  now  she  would  be  no  companion  for 
Titus. 

"Child,"  he  asked,  kindly,  "what  is  your  name?" 

"Bethany,"  she  replied,  in  a  low  voice,  "little 
Bethany.  My  mamma  was  big  Bethany." 

"Little  Bethany,"  said  the  Judge,  "that  is  a  nice 
name.  Now,  what  are  you  going  to  have?  Will 
you  eat  mush,  cornmeal  mush?" 

"If  you  please,  sir." 

"Higby,  give  her  some — put  plenty  of  cream  on 
it — Indian  corn  is  what  our  ancestors  here  in  New 
England  raised  and  gave  to  their  children.  We 
don't  eat  enough  of  it  nowadays." 

Titus,  stricken  with  sudden  shyness,  would  not 
talk  to  the  child.  He  knew  nothing  about  girls,  and 
did  not  care  for  them,  so  the  Judge  felt  it  his  duty 
to  keep  up  a  conversation. 

"How  old  are  you?"  he  asked. 


66  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"Seven,  sir,"  she  replied. 

"Do  you  like  that  mush?"  he  continued,  politely. 

She  paused  with  spoon  uplifted,  "It  is  simply 
delicious,  sir." 

Titus  got  up  and  took  a  turn  to  the  sideboard.  His 
grandfather  eyed  him  warningly.  He  had  laughed 
enough. 

Suddenly  the  clock  struck  ten,  and  as  it  struck 
the  child  lost  her  quietly  contented  air  and,  blushing 
painfully,  counted  the  strokes  as  they  rang  out. 

"O,  sir,"  she  cried,  with  a  guilty  start  and  laying 
down  her  spoon,  "I'm  an  hour  late.  I  must  get  to 
work — the  boss  will  be  so  angry." 

The  Judge  stared  at  her.  The  light  died  out  of 
his  own  eyes,  an  iron  hand  gripped  his  heart. 

In  the  face  of  that  tiny  child,  in  her  start,  her 
fear  of  consequences,  he  suddenly  felt  the  pain  of 
the  world.  Outraged  childhood  with  its  bleeding 
wounds  stood  before  him. 

A  great  lump  rose  in  his  throat.  For  a  minute 
it  seemed  as  if  his  agony  could  not  be  borne. 

He  groaned  heavily,  then  he  threw  up  his  head. 
"Child !"  he  said,  harshly,  "your  slavery  is  over." 

His  tones  were  severe,  and  the  child  was  fright- 
ened. She  slipped  from  her  seat  at  the  table  and 
stood  pale  and  shrinkingly  before  him.  "Sir,  I  want 
to  go  back  to  Mrs.  Tingsby." 

Titus  came  to  the  rescue.  "But  you  haven't  fed 
your  mouse,"  he  said,  kindly,  and  with  the  cunning 
of  one  young  thing  in  understanding  another.  "And 
we've  got  some  prime  German  cheese.  Higby — " 

The  old  man  went  to  the  big  mahogany  sideboard 
and  presently  came  back  with  some  crumbs  of  cheese. 


A  SURPRISE  FOR  THE  JUDGE  67 

The  little  girl's  thoughts  were  turned  in  a  new 
direction.  Putting  her  hand  in  her  little  bosom  she 
drew  out  the  marvelous  handkerchief,  produced  the 
ghost  of  the  mouse,  fed  it,  and  put  it  back  again. 
Then  Titus  skillfully  drew  her  toward  his  grand- 
father's study.  "About  eleven  o'clock  on  Christ- 
mas morning  we  always  have  our  presents  in 
here." 

It  was  a  pretty  sight  to  see  them  go  down  the  hall 
— the  dark  boy  and  the  pretty  little  white  girl,  so 
much  younger  than  he. 

The  Judge  followed  closely  behind  them,  and  as 
they  reached  the  study  door  and  paused,  he  paused 
too. 

The  little  girl  had  caught  sight  of  Princess  Sukey 
sitting  on  her  basket.  She  stopped  short,  caught 
her  breath,  stepped  close  to  Titus  and  remained 
motionless. 

" W-w-what's  the  matter  ?"  asked  the  boy,  bluntly. 

"O,  hush,"  murmured  the  child,  in  an  ecstacy, 
"don't  speak,  don't  move,  or  she  will  vanish." 

"I-i-indeed  she  won't — she  is  grandfather's  bird." 

"Then  she  is  no  ghost,"  said  Bethany,  drawing  a 
long  sigh  of  relief. 

"Ghost,  no.  Watch  her  dance  when  I  tickle  her 
feet,"  and  he  stepped  forward  to  the  hearthrug. 

The  princess  got  out  of  her  basket  when  she  saw 
them  coming  and,  bowing  a  great  many  times,  said, 
"Rookety  cahoo!" 

"H-h-happy  Christmas,"  replied  Titus,  politely; 
"lots  of  seeds  and  the  best  of  health.  Now  dance 
for  the  little  girl,"  and  gently  touching  her  claws 
he  caused  her  to  spin  round  and  round. 


68  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Finally  she  flew  over  their  heads  to  the  Judge's 
shoulder. 

"O,  if  I  could  touch  her,"  said  the  child,  and  she 
shivered  in  the  intensity  of  her  emotion. 

The  Judge  sat  down  and  put  the  pigeon  on  the 
arm  of  his  easy  chair. 

"Come  here,  little  girl,"  he  said,  "and  stroke  her." 

Bethany  shyly  approached  and  held  out  a  fore- 
finger to  the  Judge. 

With  another  sharp  pang  at  his  heart  he  felt  that 
the  tiny  finger  was  roughened  by  work.  Then  guid- 
ing it  to  the  white  head  under  the  hood  of  feathers 
he  looked  away  from  the  bird  and  out  the  window. 
God  helping  him,  this  child  should  never  toil  again. 

When  Bethany  felt  her  hand  touching  the  velvety 
feathers  she  gave  a  long  shudder  of  delight. 

After  a  time,  when  the  princess  had  impatiently 
thrown  off  the  little  caressing  finger,  Bethany  threw 
up  her  hands  to  the  ceiling.  "I  have  seen  them  in 
the  street,  I  have  called  to  them,  but  they  never  let 
me  touch  them.  I  think  they  thought  I  was  a  cat." 

"W-w-what  do  you  mean — pigeons?"  asked 
Titus. 

"Yes,  birds — pretty  birds  of  the  air.  I  love  them, 
but  they  don't  love  me.  Only  dogs,  and  cats,  and 
rats,  and  mice  love  me." 

"H-h-hello !"  exclaimed  Titus,  "there  goes  eleven. 
N-n-now  we'll  have  the  presents." 

The  Judge  rang  the  bell,  and  the  servants,  headed 
by  Higby  and  Mrs.  Blodgett,  filed  into  the  room. 

Bethany's  serious  brown  eyes  took  in  every  detail 
of  the  scene.  The  presentation  of  the  good-sized 
parcels  done  up  in  white  paper,  the  untying  of 


A  SURPRISE  FOR  THE  JUDGE  69 

strings,  the  exclamations  and  expressions  of  grati- 
tude, all  belonged  to  a  world  that  she  had  never 
entered  before. 

Fur-lined  gloves,  mufflers,  fur  capes,  and  warm 
dresses  for  the  maids,  a  dressing-gown  for  Higby, 
beautifully  bound  books  and  a  new  watch  for  Titus, 
were  all  spread  before  the  eyes  of  the  astonished 
child,  and  she  surveyed  the  various  gifts  without  a 
suspicion  of  envy  or  jealousy.  The  Judge  saw  this 
by  her  transparent  face,  and  with  a  gesture  he  told 
Titus  to  give  her  a  small  box  of  candy  that  lay  un- 
noticed among  his  many  presents. 

The  boy  hastened  to  give  it  to  her. 

"For  me,"  she  ejaculated,  her  now  pink  face 
growing  red,  "for  Bethany?" 

"Y-y-yes,  for  Bethany,"  said  the  boy,  good-hu- 
moredly. 

"O,  charm  of  novelty,"  reflected  the  Judge,  and 
he  looked  round  the  room.  He  had  as  good  a  set 
of  servants  as  there  was  in  the  city.  They  were  as 
grateful  as  they  could  be  to  him  for  his  kindly  re- 
membrance of  them,  but  it  was  the  gratitude  of 
custom,  of  anticipation.  They  knew  he  would  give 
them  handsome  presents;  any  other  well-to-do  and 
well  disposed  employer  would  have  done  the  same, 
but  this  child — he  looked  at  her  again. 

She  was  in  a  quiet  rapture.  "O,  the  cunning  can- 
dies," she  murmured,  "each  one  in  a  little  dress; 
O,  the  pretty  pink  flounces." 

"Why  don't  you  eat  some  ?"  inquired  the  Judge. 

She  touched  them  daintily  with  the  tips  of  her 
fingers.  "O,  sir,  I  could  not  eat  them.  I  shall 
keep  them  forever  and  ever  and  ever." 


70  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"But  they  will  spoil ;  they  were  made  to  eat." 

"Would  you  like  one,  sir  ?"  she  asked,  anxiously. 

"No,  thank  you." 

She  gazed  seriously  into  the  box  and  began  to 
count  one,  two,  three,  four,  and  so  on.  "Sir,"  she 
said  at  last,  "there  are  just  enough  to  go  twice 
round  for  Mrs.  Tingsby's  children  and  the 
boarders." 

The  Judge  smiled.    She  was  not  a  selfish  child. 

"I  could  spare  one  for  the  dear  bird  with  the 
overcoat  on  and  its  collar  turned  up,"  she  said, 
sweetly. 

The  Judge  looked  puzzled. 

"S-s-she  means  Sukey,"  explained  Titus. 

"Thank  you,  little  girl ;  pigeons  do  not  eat  candy." 

"Then  I  think  you  had  better  take  one,"  she  said, 
shyly,  coming  toward  him  with  the  box  outstretched 
in  her  hand. 

O,  sweet  little  childish  face  and  childish  grace ! — 
and  the  judge's  eyes  grew  moist.  Once  years  and 
years  ago  God  had  given  him  two  little  daughters — 
two  dream  children,  it  seemed  to  him  now,  so  many 
were  the  years  that  had  passed  since  he  laid  the  little 
childish  forms  away  in  a  country  churchyard.  O, 
children,  so  long  lamented,  yet  now  almost  for- 
gotten. 

"Little  girl,"  he  said,  gently,  "I  once  had  two 
small  daughters  not  as  old  as  you." 

Bethany  looked  over  her  shoulder,  as  if  he  were 
speaking  of  some  one  present. 

"What  do  they  look  like?"  she  asked,  wistfully. 
"Are  their  faces  white  like  mine,  and  have  they  thin 
brown  curls?" 


A  SURPRISE  FOR  THE  JUDGE  71 

"My  child,  they  have  been  in  their  graves  for 
many  a  day." 

"But  their  ghosts,"  she  said,  with  sweet  impa- 
tience, "you  see  them,  don't  you  ?" 

"Do  you  believe  in  ghosts?"  asked  the  Judge, 
quietly. 

Bethany  pursed  up  her  lips.  "The  air  is  quite, 
quite  full  of  them,  sir.  Every  night  my  mamma 
stands  by  the  foot  of  my  bed.  Last  night  she  waited 
so  patiently  until  I  was  undressed.  When  I  was 
all  alone  in  the  room  she  came  forward,  she  sat 
down  beside  me,  she  put  her  hand  on  my  forehead. 
She  said,  'Little  daughter,  do  not  be  lonely,  I  am 
with  you.'  Do  not  your  little  girls  sit  beside  you 
at  night?" 

"No,  dear,"  said  the  Judge,  very  gently. 

"How  queer,"  and  Bethany  gazed  at  him  as  if 
he  were  a  new  and  strange  kind  of  puzzle.  Then 
she  said,  "Please  tell  me  what  they  were  like.  Per- 
haps I  will  see  them." 

"What  an  imagination,"  murmured  the  Judge, 
then  he  said  aloud,  "Some  other  time,  child." 

Bethany  possessed  an  extraordinary  amount  of 
tact  for  a  child  of  her  age,  and  instead  of  pursuing 
the  subject  she  looked  round  the  room.  The  serv- 
ants were  wrapping  up  their  gifts  preparatory  to 
taking  them  away.  Titus  was  deep  in  one  of  the 
volumes  of  travel  his  grandfather  had  given  him. 

"Sir,"  she  said,  suddenly  turning  to  the  Judge. 
"There  are  other  ghosts  besides  children  and 
mothers." 

The  Judge  quietly  bowed  his  head  in  token  of 
acquiescence.  He  would  indulge  her  humor. 


72  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"There  is  my  mouse  ghost,"  she  said,  touching 
her  breast;  "then  there  is  the  ghost  of  the  spotted 
dog  with  yellow  eyes." 

"Indeed,"  remarked  the  Judge,  highly  amused 
and  interested,  "and  who  was  the  spotted  dog?" 

"He  is  a  ghost,"  said  the  child,  earnestly,  "but 
he  really  isn't  dead.  He  ran  away.  I  can  see  him 
as  plain  as  I  see  these  candies,"  and  she  tightly  shut 
her  eyes  for  a  few  instants. 

Suddenly  opening  them,  she  exclaimed,  "There 
he  is,  running  with  a  bone — quick!  catch  him.  I 
should  like  to  tell  him  that  Bethany  still  loves  him." 

As  she  spoke  she  started  dramatically  forward 
and  extended  her  hands. 

"W-w-what's  the  matter  ?"  asked  Titus,  lifting  his 
head. 

"My  spotted  dog,"  she  cried,  "my  dear  spotted 
dog.  Take  care  that  he  doesn't  bite  your  clothes. 
He  is  a  very  peculiar  dog." 

The  servants  in  alarm  thought  that  a  real  dog 
had  entered  the  room  by  the  open  door  and  began  to 
tumble  over  each  other. 

Higby,  on  account  of  his  infirmity  of  tongue, 
tried  to  open  his  mouth  as  little  as  possible  in  the 
presence  of  his  employer,  but  now  in  his  fright  he 
called  out,  "W-w-where  is  the  d-d-dog?" 

"There,"  exclaimed  the  little  girl,  "right  between 
your  feet.  Do  catch  him  for  me,  but  take  care, 
for  he  hates  old  men,  and  might  give  your  coat  a 
snap." 

Higby  caught  his  foot  in  his  highly  prized  dress- 
ing gown  that  he  was  carrying  across  his  arm  and 
stumbled  against  Titus's  heap  of  books.  He  sent 


A  SURPRISE  FOR  THE  JUDGE  73 

them  flying ;  then,  to  recover  himself  he  clutched  one 
of  the  maids,  who  shrieked  with  fright. 

The  Judge  carefully  examined  the  child's  face. 
Had  she  called  up  the  spotted  dog  in  a  spirit  of 
mischief  ?  No,  for  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes. 

"You  have  frightened  him  away,"  she  said,  sadly. 
"He  has  run  outdoors.  He  may  never  come  back," 
and,  sitting  down,  she  buried  her  little  face  in  her 
hands. 

Higby  tumbled  out  of  the  room.  He  believed  that 
the  spotted  dog  was  there  yet,  hidden  in  some  corner 
and  waiting  to  bite  him. 


CHAPTER  VI 
IN  THE  PIGEON  LOFT 

AFTER  lunch  at  half-past  one,  the  Judge  went  to 
his  study  for  a  nap,  but  he  could  not  sleep. 

The  face  of  the  strange  child  was  ever  before  him. 
He  wondered  what  she  was  doing.  Titus  had  taken 
her  up  to  the  attic  to  see  his  old  toys  and  to  choose 
some  for  herself.  He  would  like  to  watch  her  ex- 
pression as  Titus  exhibited  his  cast-off  playthings. 
For  her  that  attic  would  be  a  kind  of  treasure-house. 

How  like  a  mirror  her  face  was,  how  different 
from  his,  even  from  Titus's,  for  the  boy,  young  as 
he  was,  had  learned  to  conceal  his  emotions;  and 
now  what  was  he  going  to  do  with  her  ? 

With  a  sigh  he  got  up,  went  into  the  hall  and 
downstairs,  put  on  a  fur-lined  coat  and  a  fur  cap, 
and  was  just  about  to  go  out  when  the  two  children 
came  down  the  staircase,  Titus  not  running  as  usual, 
but  soberly  walking  beside  his  little  companion. 

Bethany's  eyes  were  shining.  She  had  a  clown 
doll  under  one  arm,  a  trumpet  under  the  other,  and 
her  hands  were  full  of  games — toy-dogs  and  horses, 
a  Noah's  ark,  and  a  little  cart. 

Titus  had  a  bag  slung  on  his  back. 

"G-g-grandfather,"  he  said,  "I  suppose  it's  all 
right  to  give  these  things  to  the  Tingsby  children." 

"Certainly." 

"H-h-how  will  I  get  them  there?  Are  you  going 
to  have  the  sleigh  out  to-day  ?" 


IN  THE  PIGEON  LOFT  75 

"I  was  not  planning  to  do  so.  I  am  going  to 
walk." 

"L-1-let's  take  the  young  one  for  a  drive,"  ex- 
claimed Titus. 

Judge  Sancroft  smiled.  Titus  ordinarily  hated 
to  drive.  He  did  not  care  to  sit  still  for  any  length 
of  time. 

"Very  well,"  he  said  at  length. 

"I-I-I  was  just  going  to  take  her  up  to  the  stable 
to  see  the  pigeons,"  said  Titus.  "S-s-she's  so  crazy 
about  birds." 

"Then  tell  Roblee  to  harness,  and  remember  not 
to  keep  me  waiting.  Don't  take  the  child  outdoors 
in  that  garb." 

"I-I-I  don't  know  what  to  put  on  her,"  said  Titus, 
in  a  puzzled  way.  "S-s-she  can't  put  her  old  dirty 
coat  over  that  white  rig." 

The  Judge  opened  the  hall  closet.  "Let  us  see 
what  we  have  here." 

Titus  came  forward  and,  rummaging  in  drawers 
and  on  hooks,  brought  out  a  small  cap. 

"H-h-here,  child,  try  this  on." 

Bethany  carefully  put  her  toys  on  the  floor  and 
obediently  held  up  her  head. 

The  cap  was  several  sizes  too  large,  but  she  did 
not  complain,  only  quietly  pushed  it  to  the  back  of 
her  head. 

"Here  is  a  scarf,"  said  the  Judge,  "wrap  that 
round  your  neck." 

Bethany  did  as  she  was  told,  and  Titus  next 
brought  out  a  short  coat  of  his  own. 

"I-i-it's  worlds  too  large,"  he  observed,  "but  it 
will  keep  her  warm." 


76  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"What  about  her  feet  ?"  inquired  the  Judge. 

"W-w-well,  here's  a  big  shawl,"  stuttered  Titus, 
bringing  out  a  traveling  rug.  "I  guess  we'll  just 
wrap  that  round  her  after  she  gets  in  the 
sleigh." 

"It  will  cover  all  deficiencies,"  said  the  Judge,  "but 
how  will  you  get  her  up  to  the  stable  in  those  thin 
slippers  ?" 

Titus  emerged  from  the  closet  and  surveyed  Beth- 
any with  a  face  flushed  from  exertion.  "I  guess  I'll 
have  to  carry  her  up.  It  isn't  far.  Once  there  she'll 
be  warm  enough." 

The  Judge  smiled  and  followed  slowly  as  the  two 
went  down  another  staircase  and  opened  a  door 
leading  to  a  back  veranda.  From  there  a  plank 
walk  led  through  the  garden  to  the  stable. 

Titus  manfully  shouldered  his  burden  on  the 
veranda. 

Bethany  clasped  her  arms  about  his  neck  and 
smiled  back  at  the  Judge,  who  caught  up  to  them  at 
the  stable  door. 

There  was  a  furnace  in  the  stable,  and  the  air  was 
warm  and  comfortable,  so  Titus  allowed  Bethany  to 
slip  to  the  floor. 

"Is  this  where  your  horses  live  ?"  she  asked,  shyly, 
looking  up  at  the  Judge. 

He  nodded  his  head. 

She  continued  to  look  about  her.  "I  wish  Mother 
Tingsby  had  been  born  a  horse;  it  would  be  better 
for  her." 

The  Judge  wrinkled  his  forehead.  Poor  child — 
she,  too,  was  grappling  with  the  mystery  of  the  in- 
equality of  the  human  lot. 


IN  THE  PIGEON  LOFT  77 

"W-w-well,"  said  Titus,  hurrying  back  from  the 
stalls  where  he  had  been  to  speak  to  Roblee. 
"T-t-the  sleigh  will  be  at  the  door  in  twenty  minutes. 
N-n-now  let  us  go  up  to  see  the  pigeons,"  and  he 
led  the  way  toward  a  flight  of  steps. 

Bethany  tripped  behind,  occasionally  extricating 
a  hand  from  the  long  sleeve  of  Titus's  coat  to  push 
back  on  her  head  the  capacious  cap,  which  persisted 
in  falling  over  her  brows. 

Titus,  with  Charlie  Brown's  help,  had  had  a  fine 
place  made  for  his  pigeons.  His  grandfather  had 
allowed  him  to  have  a  part  of  the  hay  loft  inclosed, 
some  extra  windows  put  in,  and  a  floor  of  matched 
pine  laid. 

"There  isn't  a  better  loft  in  the  city,"  Charlie  had 
said  when  it  was  finished. 

Clean,  coarse  sand  had  been  put  on  the  floor,  mov- 
able nest  compartments  had  been  placed  against  the 
wall,  and  the  latest  things  in  feed  hoppers  and  drink- 
ing fountains  had  been  bought  for  the  boy. 

He  was  full  of  joy  over  his  new  possession,  and, 
as  Mrs.  Blodgett  prophesied,  most  of  his  leisure  time 
was  spent  here,  either  alone  or  in  company  with 
other  boys. 

He  did  all  the  work  himself,  and  with  a  worthy 
pride  in  the  clean  home  of  his  birds  he  stood  at  the 
top  of  the  steps  and  eagerly  waited  to  hear  what  the 
little  girl  would  say. 

Bethany  came  up  the  steps,  walked  through  the 
screen  door  that  Titus  held  open,  and  looked  about 
her. 

It  was  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  and  in  view 
of  the  fast  approaching  darkness  the  pigeons  were 


78  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

bestirring  themselves  in  order  to  have  their  last 
feed  before  going  to  bed.  They  were  all  promenad- 
ing over  the  sanded  floor,  going  from  one  rack  to 
another  looking  for  the  choicest  grains. 

They  made  a  very  pretty  picture  in  the  gloaming. 
Titus  had  not  as  many  varieties  as  his  friend  Charlie 
had,  but  still  he  had  a  goodly  number.  There  were 
dark  Jacobins,  with  nodding  red  hoods  surrounding 
their  white  faces ;  pure  white  Jacobins  and  buff  Jaco- 
bins; clean-shaped,  slender  magpies;  graceful  arch- 
angels; shell-crested,  nasal  tufted  priests;  cobby 
frill-backs  with  reversed  feathering ;  swallows ;  tum- 
blers; runts;  demure  nuns  in  black  and  white  cos- 
tumes with  white  hoods  passing  below  their  side 
curls;  and  globular  cropped  poulters. 

Bethany  surveyed  them  in  profound  silence.  The 
Judge,  striving  to  read  her  face,  could  make  nothing 
of  it  but  confusion. 

Finally  he  put  out  a  hand  to  steady  her.  The 
child  was  swaying. 

"Do  you  feel  ill  ?"  he  asked,  gazing  apprehensively 
at  her  deathly  white  face. 

She  nodded.    "Yes,  sir,  Bethany  feels  sick." 

He  took  her  in  his  arms  and  carried  her  down- 
stairs, and  the  discomforted  Titus,  after  a  farewell 
glance  at  his  beautiful  birds,  followed  disconsolately 
behind.  He  had  so  hoped  that  the  little  girl  would 
like  them.  She  had  seemed  to  like  Princess  Sukey. 
Well,  girls  were  queer.  Boys  were  much  more  sat- 
isfactory. 

"What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?"  asked  the  Judge 
when  he  had  set  Bethany  on  her  feet. 

"Sir,"  she  said,  in  a  whisper  and  looking  up  at 


IN  THE  PIGEON  LOFT  79 

him  with  an  awed  face,  "Was  it  heaven  or  were 
they  ghosts  ?" 

The  Judge  tried  to  do  some  thinking.  It  was 
hard  for  a  man  of  his  age  to  send  himself  back  to 
childhood — and  then  he  had  not  been  an  imaginative 
child.  But  he  tried  to  think  of  himself  as  highly 
strung,  as  having  a  passion  for  dumb  creatures,  as 
being  poor  and  unable  to  have  pets  about  him,  and 
then  suddenly  to  be  confronted  with  a  number  of 
beautiful  specimens  of  the  bird  world. 

Yes,  he  could  just  faintly  picture  to  himself  some- 
thing of  Bethany's  ecstasy.  The  child  had  been  over- 
come. 

"Don't  you  want  to  go  in  the  house  and  lie 
down  ?"  he  asked,  gazing  kindly  at  her  white  face. 

"Yes,  sir,"  she  whispered.  The  Judge  carried  her 
along  the  plank  walk,  while  Titus  lounged  slowly 
behind. 

"Where  is  Mrs.  Blodgett?"  asked  the  Judge  of  a 
maid  when  they  entered  the  lower  hall. 

"Gone  out,  sir." 

"Then  you  take  care  of  this  little  girl  while  I  am 
away." 

Bethany  made  no  protest.  The  girl  smiled  kindly 
and  put  out  a  hand,  and  the  child  went  quietly  with 
her. 

"Let  her  lie  down  and  have  a  sleep,"  said  the 
Judge,  "she  is  tired." 

Then  he  turned.  "Well,  boy,  what  are  you  for — 
remaining  at  home  or  going  with  me?" 

Titus  looked  at  his  grandfather.  It  was  Christ- 
mas Day,  and  he  ought  to  keep  with  him.  "I'll  go 
with  you,  sir,"  he  said,  brightening  up. 


8o  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

The  Judge  smiled,  then  together  they  went  up- 
stairs and  out  the  big  hall  door  down  to  the  waiting 
sleigh. 

Higby  carried  out  the  toys  for  the  Tingsby  chil- 
dren and  tucked  them  under  the  fur  robes. 

It  did  not  take  long  for  the  Judge's  fast  horses 
to  reach  River  Street. 

The  street  was  very  quiet.  It  was  a  cold  day, 
and  the  people  were  mostly  celebrating  their  Christ- 
mas indoors. 

"P-p-pretty  poor  pickings,  I  guess,  some  of  them 
have,"  stuttered  Titus,  compassionately,  and  his 
grandfather  agreed  with  him. 

Mrs.  Tingsby's  house  was  as  gray  and  dingy  out- 
side by  daylight  as  it  had  been  by  electric  light  the 
day  before,  and  it  was  apparently  cold  and  uninhab- 
ited. No  children's  faces  appeared  at  the  windows, 
no  cheerful  gleam  of  firelight  shone  from  between 
the  threadbare  curtains. 

Titus  jumped  out  and  pounded  on  the  door.  After 
a  long  time,  and  a  liberal  application  of  both  fists, 
Mrs.  Tingsby  herself  came. 

She  gave  them  a  most  joyful  welcome. 

"Come  in !  Come  in !"  she  screamed  in  her  excite- 
ment, "come  in,  gentlemen,  come  in  an'  come  down 
to  where  we're  celebratin',  poor  as  we  be.  No,  no — 
not  there,"  as  the  Judge  mechanically  turned  toward 
the  door  of  the  small  room  in  which  they  had  sat 
the  evening  before.  "Here,  sir,  down  here  in  the 
cellar,"  and  she  trotted  before  him  to  a  dark  stair- 
way, and  with  alarming  celerity  disappeared  in  the 
depths  of  a  basement,  while  the  Judge  and  Titus  felt 
their  way  down  after  her. 


IN  THE  PIGEON  LOFT  81 

"Here,  here,"  she  called,  opening  a  door  and  sud- 
denly allowing  a  streak  of  light  to  dart  into  the 
almost  pitch-dark  hall,  "here  we  be — merry  as  cop- 
persmiths after  our  good  dinner." 

"S-s-seems  to  me  I'd  rather  be  some  other  kind  of 
a  smith,"  grumbled  Titus  to  himself,  wrinkling  his 
nose  in  the  goose-laden  atmosphere  as  he  followed 
her,  for  he  was  preceding  his  grandfather,  with  the 
charitable  intention  of  breaking  his  fall  if  he  had 
one. 

"Merry,  merry — O !  so  merry,"  repeated  the  little 
woman.  "Here  we  be — all  the  family." 

Titus  stood  aside  and  blinked  his  eyes,  while  the 
Judge  walked  by  him. 

"For  warmth,  sir,  an'  comfort,  an'  good  times, 
we're  all  in  the  kitchen,"  said  Mrs.  Tingsby.  "Gen- 
Tmen,"  and  she  turned  to  her  boarders  with  a  ridic- 
ulous little  bow,  "this  is  the  jedge  that  tooked 
Bethany.  Jedge,  here  be  my  children,"  and  she  indi- 
cated half  a  dozen  poorly  dressed  but  bright  looking 
children  who  got  up  from  the  floor  and  from  cracker 
boxes  to  make  their  best  bow  to  the  company. 

"Yes,  we  be  all  here,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tingsby, 
a-huggin'  the  fire,  "which  is  a  good  one  if  I  does  say 
so  myself.  There's  Harry  Ray,  the  express  boy, 
Harry  an'  his  cough,  which  I'm  glad  to  say  is  a  mite 
better  owin'  to  peppermint  tea  or  his  half  holiday, 
I  don't  know  which;  Matthew  Jones  an'  his  poor 
eyes,  but  he  aint  grumblin',  because  it's  Christmas; 
an'  old  man  Fanley,  glad  to  rest  his  weary  legs  from 
parcel-carryin' — aint  you,  Fanley.  An'  Barry  Maf- 
ferty,  which  is  a  temp'rary  boarder." 

The  Judge  looked  round  him.    From  the  bottom 


82  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

of  his  heart  he  pitied  them.  At  first  sight  it  seemed 
to  him  the  height  of  misery  to  be  crouching  round 
a  medium-sized  fire,  breathing  an  atmosphere  so 
redolent  of  goose,  with  no  comfortable  seats;  and 
yet  in  a  few  minutes  he  modified  his  opinion. 

Two  of  the  few  chairs  in  the  kitchen  had  been 
given  to  him  and  to  Titus.  As  they  sat  in  the  shabby 
but  clean  kitchen  he  reflected  that  it  was  warm,  that 
these  people  all  looked  contented,  that  with  their 
dingy  clothes  they  would  certainly  not  be  happy  in 
rooms  like  his  own. 

"It  is  very  comfortable  here,"  he  said,  drawing  off 
his  gloves  and  rubbing  his  hands,  "very  comfort- 
able after  the  cold  outside." 

"If  only  the  landlords  would  give  the  poor  better 
houses,"  he  continued,  reflecting,  "they  would  not 
be  so  uncomfortable.  Really,  they  are  spared  some 
of  the  worries  of  life  that  we  better  off  ones  have 
to  endure." 

But  he  must  listen  to  Mrs.  Tingsby.  "We've  had 
such  a  good  Christmas,"  she  was  exclaiming,  "such 
a  good  one.  Look-a-here,  an'  here,"  and  she  took 
from  one  child  a  tiny  doll,  from  another  a  bag  of 
candy,  from  another  a  whistle,  and  proudly  exhibited 
them. 

Needless  to  say,  the  presents  were  from  the  board- 
ers, who  somewhat  sheepishly  averted  their  faces 
while  she  was  praising  their  generosity  to  the 
Judge. 

He  was  greatly  touched.  They  were  so  pitiful, 
so  insignificant,  these  little  presents,  and  yet  how 
they  had  pleased  the  recipients. 

"An'  now,"  called  Mrs.  Tingsby,  "may  I  be  for- 


IN  THE  PIGEON  LOFT  83 

given  for  not  havin'  put  her  first — how  is  that 
blessed  child?" 

The  Judge's  lips  formed  the  words,  "Very  well." 

"Aint  she  a  darlin' !  O,  you'll  get  to  love  her  like 
your  own  flesh  an'  blood." 

"I  am  sorry  that  she  is  not  a  boy,"  vociferated 
the  Judge;  "a  boy  would  have  been  more  of  a  com- 
panion for  my  grandson." 

"Yes,  sir — yes,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Tingsby,  beaming 
on  him,  "a  boy  an'  a  girl — just  a  nice  family.  I 
always  did  despise  two  boys  or  two  girls  for  a  set 
piece." 

"You  tell  her,"  said  the  Judge,  with  a  wave  of  his 
hand  toward  his  grandson. 

Titus  approached  his  lips  somewhat  nearer  to  the 
little  woman's  ear  than  they  were.  "M-m-my  grand- 
father says  he  is  sorry  the  girl  is  not  a  boy." 

"Boy!"  repeated  Mrs.  Tingsby,  "O,  yes,  she 
should  have  been  a  boy.  They  do  get  on  easier 
than  girls,  but  we  can't  change  her  now,  you 
know." 

The  semicircle  of  boarders,  children,  and  the 
Judge  could  not  but  agree  with  this  statement,  and 
she  looked  approvingly  round  at  them. 

"Tell  her  that  even  though  we  do  not  keep  the 
child,  we  shall  still  be  interested  in  her,"  said  the 
Judge. 

Titus,  in  slight  embarrassment,  again  cried  in  her 
ear,  "Maybe  we  can  get  her  a  good  home  some- 
where else." 

"Good  home!"  replied  Mrs.  Tingsby,  "yes>  yes,  I 
know — the  Lord  will  bless  you  for  that." 

"I  guess  your  mamma  is  pretty  deaf  to-day,  isn't 


84  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

she?"  asked  Titus,  patiently,  of  one  of  the  older 
children. 

The  children  were  all  staring  rather  disdainfully 
at  him  and  his  grandfather.  They  did  not  lack 
smartness,  and  they  had  jumped  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  Judge's  visit  meant  that  he  was  tired  of 
Bethany  and  wanted  to  return  her. 

"I'll  make  her  hear,"  said  the  eldest  girl,  grimly, 
and  she  applied  her  lips  to  her  parent's  ear,  and, 
without  making  a  steam  whistle  of  herself,  as  poor 
Titus  did,  she  said,  in  a  low,  blood-curdling  tone, 
"The  gemman  is  tired  of  Bethany — wants  to  return 
her  like  a  parcel  sent  on  approbation." 

Mrs.  Tingsby,  who  had  more  of  the  milk  of 
human  kindness  than  this  particular  one  of  her 
offspring,  turned  to  the  Judge  with  an  amazed, 
reproachful  air.  "Be  that  true,  sir?" 

"No,"  said  the  Judge,  stoutly,  "it  isn't." 

Immediately  there  ensued  an  altercation  between 
him  and  the  smart  girl.  To  his  own  great  confusion 
and  astonishment,  he,  Judge  Sancroft,  leading  citi- 
zen of  Riverport,  actually  found  himself  bandying 
words  with  a  saucy  little  shopgirl,  for  such  she  ap- 
peared to  be — and  she  got  the  better  of  him. 

At  last  he  appealed  to  the  boarders.  "Can't  some 
of  you  explain  how  matters  are?  The  child  is  a 
charming  little  creature.  I  have  no  wish  to  bring 
her  back.  I  will  see  that  she  is  comfortably  placed." 

The  new  temporary  boarder,  or  visitor,  Barry 
Mafferty,  suddenly  began  to  laugh.  The  old  board- 
ers, at  the  entrance  of  the  Judge,  had  been  suddenly 
stricken  with  bashfulness.  This  poorly  dressed, 
brown-faced  man  of  middle  age  had  alone  preserved 


IN  THE  PIGEON  LOFT  85 

his  composure.  After  a  slight  bow  he  had  taken  an 
unlighted  cigarette  from  his  mouth,  had  calmly 
looked  the  Judge  over,  from  his  white  head  to  his 
black  overshoes,  had  bestowed  a  slight  glance  of  ad- 
miration on  the  half-open,  fur-lined  coat,  and  had 
then  again  directed  his  attention  to  the  red-hot  bars 
of  the  grate  in  front  of  the  old-fashioned  cooking- 
stove. 

Now,  as  if  irresistibly  amused  by  the  passage-at- 
arms  between  the  gentleman  and  the  flippant  child 
of  poverty,  he  did  not  try  to  conceal  his  amusement. 

The  Judge  turned  to  him. 

"Don't  worry  yourself,  sir,"  said  Mafferty,  easily, 
"things  will  all  come  out  right.  Our  hostess  is  a 
good  sort." 

The  Judge  stared.    Who  was  this  man  ? 

"Broken  down  gentleman,"  said  Mafferty,  still 
more  easily;  "lot's  of  time  to  study  human  nature. 
I  have  seen  the  child  you  took.  I  advise  you  to  hold 
on  to  her  if  you  value  a  nice  child.  She  belongs  to 
a  different  rank  in  society  from  these — "  and  he 
raised  his  hand  comprehensively  at  the  Tingsby 
children. 

The  smart  girl  immediately  turned  her  attention 
upon  him. 

"Easy  now,  easy,"  he  said,  coolly,  nodding  his 
really  fine-featured  head  at  her.  "Easy,  or  you  will 
upset  your  basket  of  china." 

"China,"  she  cried,  in  a  fine,  thin  voice,  curiously 
like  her  mother's,  "what  do  you  know  of  china, 
you  low-down,  gutter-raggy,  broken-weazled,  shilly- 
shally—" 

Mafferty  began  to  laugh  again,  and  such  is  the 


86  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

power  of  a  long  drawn-out,  hearty,  sustained  peal  of 
laughter  in  which  there  is  nothing  nervous,  nothing 
satirical,  nothing  to  wound,  that  one  by  one  his 
listeners  began  to  join  him. 

The  Judge  laughed,  Titus  laughed,  the  boarders 
giggled,  the  children  shrieked,  and  even  Mrs.  Tings- 
by,  though  she  had  not  heard  a  word  of  what  was 
said,  laughed  with  the  best  of  them,  and  was  soon 
wiping  the  tears  from  her  eyes. 

"I  don't  know  what's  amusin'  you,"  she  gasped, 
convulsively,  "but  it  must  be  somethin'  powerful 
funny." 

At  this  Mafferty  redoubled  his  own  merriment, 
and  presently  the  uproar  became  so  loud  that  the 
Judge  rose.  He  really  could  not  take  part  in  this 
any  longer,  though  he  was  still  laughing  himself. 

Mafferty  paid  no  attention  to  him.  His  eye  was 
on  the  smart  girl.  She  alone  of  all  the  children  had 
not  once  allowed  a  crease  of  amusement  to  form 
itself  on  her  face.  She  was  stubborn,  disagreeable, 
even  ugly. 

"Laugh,  you  goose,  laugh,"  he  suddenly  cried, 
stopping  short  and  snapping  his  fingers  within  an 
inch  of  her  nose.  "If  you  don't  learn  to  laugh  the 
devil  will  catch  you.  You  can't  go  through  life  kick- 
ing at  Providence  and  have  any  sort  of  a  good  time." 

The  girl  drew  herself  back  and  began  an  hysteri- 
cal giggle. 

"Not  bad  to  start  with,"  said  the  man,  compla- 
cently. "I'll  teach  you  to  laugh  better  than  that, 
though,  you  insolent  wisp  of  humanity." 

The  Judge  again  stared  at  him.  He  was  curi- 
ously attracted  by  this  man. 


IN  THE  PIGEON  LOFT  87 

"Have  you  been  on  the  stage?"  he  asked,  sud- 
denly. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Mafferty,  good-humoredly,  "the 
stage  of  the  world.  First  as  a  physician,  then  down, 
down  through  various  stages  of  trampdom.  Great 
at  deceivin'  farmers'  wives.  Now  imposing  on  soci- 
ety as  proprietor  of  a  cat  farm." 

"O,  you  are  out  at  Bobbety's  Island?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"How  can  you  leave  your  cats?" 

"My  wife  is  there,  sir.  I've  come  up  to  the  city 
to  spend  Christmas." 

"What  about  your  wife?" 

"O,  sir,  women  can  enjoy  the  pleasures  of  soli- 
tude better  than  men,  and,  then,  she  is  fond  of  the 
cats." 

The  Judge  looked  disapprovingly  at  him,  then 
saying,  "We  must  go,"  he  made  a  sign  of  farewell 
to  Mrs.  Tingsby. 

"Beat  him,"  said  Mafferty,  nodding  at  Titus,  "if 
he  doesn't  work.  Don't  let  him  idle  if  you  half  kill 
him.  The  devil's  real  name  is  'Loafer.' ' 

The  Judge  nodded  significantly,  and  all  the  board- 
ers and  children  stood  up  as  he  left  the  kitchen. 

"By  the  way,"  he  said,  turning  suddenly,  "the 
little  girl  sent  some  toys  to  you  children." 

"Hooray!"  cried  the  boys  and  girls,  who  were 
still  hilarious — that  is,  all  but  the  eldest,  smart  girl. 
Then  they  pressed  out  of  the  kitchen  after  Titus, 
who  volunteered  to  show  them  where  the  toys  were. 

The  Judge  stood  looking  at  Mrs.  Tingsby.  He 
was  sorry  for  her.  She  did  not  quite  take  in  the 
situation  of  affairs,  and  was  troubled  and  anxious. 


88  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

He  turned  to  Mafferty  as  the  one  who  would  best 
understand  him. 

"Explain  to  her,  will  you?"  he  said.  "I  have  no 
intention  of  again  placing  the  child  on  her  hands. 
I  cannot  keep  her  myself,  as  she  is  not  a  boy,  but  I 
shall  find  a  suitable  home  for  her." 

"Yes,  I  will,"  said  the  man,  then  he  put  out  a 
hand  and  touched  the  Judge's  coat  almost  lovingly. 
"I  once  had  a  fur-lined  coat.  I  suppose  you  haven't 
another?" 

"Yes,  I  have,"  said  the  Judge,  promptly,  "too 
small  for  me — just  your  fit." 

Mafferty  smiled.  He  knew  he  would  get  it.  The 
Judge  gave  a  great  sigh  of  relief  as  he  passed  up 
the  dark  staircase.  He  had  grown  strangely  sensi- 
tive this  Christmas  season.  It  had  seemed  to  him 
that  he  could  not  go  away  comfortably  and  leave  this 
man  Mafferty  without  doing  something  for  him. 
True,  he  had  not  half  the  respect  for  him  that  he 
had  for  the  honest  expressman,  the  furrier,  and  the 
parcel-carrier  standing  modestly  in  the  background. 
Those  men  would  have  died  rather  than  beg  from 
him.  They  were  workers,  and  Mafferty  had  been, 
and  evidently  still  was,  a  kind  of  drone.  Yet  the 
cat-man  was  of  the  Judge's  class.  They  understood 
each  other's  Shibboleth,  and  the  rich  man's  heart 
was  full  of  pity  as  he  went  out  to  the  frosty 
street. 

Roblee  had  sprung  out  of  his  sleigh  and  had  gone 
to  the  horses'  heads. 

There  was  such  a  screaming  and  pulling  from  the 
young  Tingsbys,  who  were  dragging  at  the  toys  and 
bearing  them  to  the  house,  that  he  was  afraid  of  a 


IN  THE  PIGEON  LOFT  89 

runaway.  Titus,  scarcely  less  excited  than  the  poor 
children,  was  in  the  thickest  of  the  fun. 

"Come!  Come!"  said  the  Judge,  "stop  this  tu- 
mult," and  he  waved  his  hand. 

Titus  hurried  the  shrieking  crew  into  the  house 
and  sprang  in  beside  his  grandfather. 

"Home,  Roblee,"  said  the  Judge,  and  in  a  few 
minutes  they  were  before  the  big  stone  house  on 
Grand  Avenue. 

They  were  met  by  a  disturbed  household.  Higby, 
after  throwing  open  the  door,  stammered  and 
walked  backward,  and  stamped,  and  tried  to  ejacu- 
late something,  which  was  drowned  by  the  exclama- 
tions of  the  maidservants,  who  had  assembled  in  the 
hall.  Foremost  among  them  was  Betty,  the  girl  into 
whose  care  the  Judge  had  put  little  Bethany. 

Her  face  was  as  white  as  death,  and  she  was 
wringing  her  hands.  Presently  the  Judge  made  out 
her  exclamation,  "Child  lost !" 

"The  little  girl,  do  you  mean  ?"  he  asked,  sternly. 

"Yes,  sir ;  O !  yes,  sir." 

"When?" 

"Just  after  you  left,  sir." 

"Where  were  you?" 

"In  my  own  room.  I  had  laid  her  on  the  bed  to 
go  to  sleep — she  went  off  like  that,  sir,"  and  she 
helplessly  extended  her  arms. 

"Were  you  in  your  room  when  she  disappeared  ?" 

"No,  sir ;  O !  no,  sir.  I  was  next  door  to  Jennie's 
room.  I  just  went  in  to  borrow  a  fine  needle." 

"And  when  you  came  back  the  child  was  gone  ?" 

"Yes,  sir."  ' 

"Have  you  searched  the  house?" 


90  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"Every  corner,  sir." 

"Did  you  run  out  in  the  street  ?" 

"Yes,  sir;  we've  been  searching  the  neighbor- 
hood for  an  hour.  We  were  just  waiting  now  till 
you  came." 

The  Judge  stood  stock  still  in  the  midst  of  his 
apprehensive  domestics.  Had  the  little  stranger 
run  home? 

Probably,  and  yet — he  reflected  for  a  minute,  his 
face  heavy  with  what  the  young  lawyers  of  River- 
port  were  pleased  to  call  his  "judicial  frown." 

Suddenly  he  lifted  up  his  head.  "Have  you 
searched  the  stable?" 

"The  stable — no,  sir,"  ejaculated  poor  Betty. 

"Come  with  me,  Titus,"  said  the  Judge,  "that 
child  is  a  peculiar  one.  I  do  not  think  that  she  has 
run  away." 


"  Go  tell  the  servants  that  she  is  found,"  said  the  Judge 
to  Titus. 


CHAPTER  VII 
BIRDS  OF  HEAVEN 

THE  Judge  walked  calmly  out  through  the  house 
to  the  garden  and  through  the  garden  to  the  stable. 

Arrived  in  the  stable,  he  called  to  Roblee,  who 
was  unharnessing,  to  turn  on  all  the  electric  lights 
above  and  below.  Then  he  and  Titus  went  up  to  the 
pigeon  loft. 

The  Judge  pushed  open  the  screen  door.  It  was 
just  as  he  had  thought.  On  a  little  stool  by  the 
door  sat  Bethany  sound  asleep,  a  white  owl  pigeon 
in  her  lap,  another  on  her  head.  Her  own  head  was 
thrown  back  against  the  wall,  one  hand  resting 
caressingly  on  the  beautiful  creature  in  her  lap. 

The  owls  opened  wide  their  large  eyes  and  gazed 
at  the  Judge  and  Titus  in  mild  surprise.  Other 
pigeons  eyed  them  from  nest  boxes  and  perches. 
They  were  all  very  tame,  but  not  all  would  have 
allowed  Bethany  to  handle  them  as  did  the  gentle 
owls. 

"Go  tell  the  servants  that  she  is  found,"  said  the 
Judge  to  Titus. 

The  boy  rushed  down  the  steps,  and  the  Judge 
bent  over  Bethany.  She  had  no  wrap  on,  and  the 
pigeon  loft  was  not  kept  very  warm. 

He  looked  at  a  thermometer  over  her  head — fifty 
degrees. 

"Child,"  he  said,  gently  shaking  her,  "wake  up." 


92  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

She  drowsily  opened  her  eyes  and  murmured, 
"Birds  of  heaven." 

The  Judge  shook  her  again.  "Come!  Come! 
Don't  you  want  some  Christmas  dinner  ?" 

She  staggered  to  her  little  feet.  "O !  is  it  you,  Mr. 
Judge !  I  was  dreaming  of  you  and  the  birds." 

The  Judge  smiled,  took  her  hand,  and  conducted 
her  down  the  steps,  then  carried  her  in  the  house. 
Upon  arriving  inside  they  found  Mrs.  Blodgett,  who 
had  just  come  from  her  midday  Christmas  dinner, 
eaten  at  her  daughter's.  She  had  been  overwhelm- 
ing the  unfortunate  Betty  with  reproaches.  If  she, 
Mrs.  Blodgett,  had  been  at  home  the  child  would 
not  have  been  allowed  to  steal  away  and  give  every- 
one such  an  upsetting — just  like  a  careless,  giddy 
girl,  and  she  swept  away  the  little  child  to  make  her 
toilet  for  dinner. 

From  her  store  of  clothes  she  managed  to  unearth 
another  dress  of  the  grandchild  Mary  Ann's,  for 
Bethany  appeared  at  the  dinner  table  in  pale  blue. 

Very  pretty  she  looked  as  she  came  gently  into 
the  dining  room  and  allowed  old  Higby  to  lift  her 
to  a  seat  beside  the  Judge. 

The  table  was  decorated  with  holly  and  red  rib- 
bons and  a  miniature  Christmas  tree. 

Bethany's  eyes  shone  brightly.  At  last  she  was 
wide  awake,  having  had  sleep  enough  to  last  her  for 
some  time. 

She  said  nothing,  but  her  appreciation  of  her  gay 
and  brilliant  surroundings  was  so  intense  that,  to 
the  secret  amusement  of  the  Judge  and  Titus,  she 
made  up  her  mind  to  have  a  participator — some  one 
who  was  not  used  to  this  style  of  living.  Instead  of 


BIRDS  OF  HEAVEN  93 

waiting  for  the  end  of  the  meal  she  put  up  her  hand 
at  once,  drew  out  the  ghost  of  the  dead  mouse,  and 
placed  him  behind  a  sprig  of  holly.  All  through  the 
meal,  from  soup  to  fruit,  mousie  had  his  share  of 
what  was  going.  Not  a  course  did  he  miss,  and  it 
was  a  very  stuffed  and  overcome  ghost  that  the  child 
finally  wrapped  in  her  handkerchief  when  they  left 
the  table. 

The  big  parlor  was  lighted,  the  piano  was  open, 
and  picture  books  and  games  were  laid  out,  but  in 
some  way  or  other  the  trio,  after  dinner,  drifted  to 
the  Judge's  study.  There  on  the  hearthrug  by  the 
fire,  with  Princess  Sukey,  the  two  children,  or, 
rather,  the  boy  and  the  child,  sat  and  talked,  while 
the  Judge  listened  quietly  from  his  armchair.  Part 
of  the  time  Titus  was  shouting  with  laughter.  In 
some  marvelous  way  he  had  got  over  all  his  bash- 
fulness  of  the  morning.  Bethany  was  such  a  little 
girl  that  it  did  not  seem  worth  while  to  be  afraid 
of  her,  and  then  he  was  in  honor  bound  to  tell  her 
about  their  visit  to  the  Tingsbys. 

Airy,  she  said,  was  the  name  of  the  eldest  girl. 
Airy,  nickname  for  Mary,  then  came  Annie,  Rodd, 
Goldie,  Gibb,  and  Dobbie. 

"W-w- what's  Dobbie?"  inquired  Titus,  "boy  or 
girl?" 

"Why,  boy,  of  course,"  responded  Bethany, 
"didn't  you  see  him  ?" 

"Y-y-yes,  I  saw  a  baby  sitting  on  the  floor,  but 
I  didn't  know  which  name  belonged  to  him." 

"Then  you  had  to  think  a  name  to  him,"  said 
Bethany,  dreamily. 

"T-t-think  a  name— what's  that?" 


94  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"Why,  you  know  that  everything  has  a  name," 
said  the  little  girl,  staring  at  him  wonderingly. 
"There  isn't  any  'it'  about  anything.  If  you  don't 
know  the  name,  you  just  give  one." 

"O-o-of  course,  everything  has  a  name,"  said  the 
boy,  stoutly,  "but  if  I  don't  know  it  I  don't  give 
one.  I  wait  till  I  find  out." 

"I  don't,"  she  replied,  shaking  her  head.  "I  give 
a  name  to  everything." 

"Did  you  give  me  a  name  before  you  heard 
mine?" 

"Of  course,"  she  replied,  with  dignity. 

"W-w-what  name  did  you  give  me?" 

"You  won't  be  cross?"  she  said,  surveying  him 
doubtfully. 

"C-c-certainly  not." 

"I  gave  you  the  name  of  Blackie,"  she  said,  with 
a  glance  up  at  his  dark  head. 

Titus  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughter.  "Y-y-you  did 
that  last  night  when  you  were  so  sleepy?" 

Bethany  nodded  her  head.  "I  wasn't  too  sleepy 
to  think." 

"A-a-and  now — what  do  you  give  me  now?" 

"I  give  you  your  own  name,"  she  said,  patiently, 
"but  the  other  one  is  in  the  top  of  my  mind.  I 
could  call  it  down  if  I  wanted  to." 

"W-w-would  you  give  this  hearthrug  a  name?" 
asked  the  boy,  teasingly. 

She  caressingly  passed  a  hand  over  the  red  velvet 
pile.  "Yes,  boy,  I  call  this  rug  Red  Heart." 

Titus  did  not  laugh  this  time.  He  stared  curi- 
ously and  silently  at  her. 

The  Judge  interposed  a  quiet  question.    "Did  you 


BIRDS  OF  HEAVEN  95 

think  me  a  name  before  you  knew  my  real  one,  little 
girl?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  she  said,  shyly,  turning  round  to  face 
him. 

"What  was  it?" 

"I  called  you  Mr.  White  Tree  because  your  white 
hair  is  so  soft,  just  like  the  blossoms  on  a  little  tree 
in  the  flower  shop  on  Broadway." 

"Do  you  call  me  by  that  name,  now  ?"  pursued  the 
Judge,  curiously. 

"No,  sir." 

"What  do  you  call  me?" 

She  hung  her  head  and  twisted  her  fingers  to- 
gether. "Bethany  would  rather  not  speak  that  name 
out  loud,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"It  isn't  Judge  Bancroft,  then,"  ventured  her 
senior,  kindly. 

She  shook  her  head. 

"W-w-whisper  it,"  proposed  Titus,  bluntly.  "I've 
seen  girls  whisper  things  when  they  would  not  speak 
them  out." 

She  mumbled  something  to  herself  that  the  boy 
could  not  hear. 

"G-g-go  say  it  in  his  ear,"  stuttered  Titus,  impa- 
tiently. 

Bethany  looked  shyly  at  the  Judge. 

"Come,  if  you  want  to,"  he  said,  with  a  smile. 

She  edged  up  to  him  step  by  step.  "It's  Daddy 
Grandpa,"  she  whispered  in  his  ear. 

"Why  Daddy  Grandpa?"  he  whispered  back. 

"  'Cause  Bethany  hasn't  any  daddy  and  she  hasn't 
any  grandpa,  and  she  likes  to  call  you  that." 

The  Judge  had  noticed  before  that  in  moments  of 


96  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

great  embarrassment  Bethany  often  spoke  of  herself 
in  the  third  person,  therefore  he  hastened  to  reassure 
her. 

"You  may  call  me  that  name  all  the  time,  dear 
child,  if  it  will  be  any  comfort  to  you." 

A  strange  glow  came  over  her  face,  apart  from 
the  glow  of  the  firelight.  Poor  little  lonely  heart, 
craving  for  natural  relationship  and  sympathy! 
However,  she  had  been  schooled  to  restrain  emotion, 
and  with  a  simple  "Thank  you,  sir,"  she  went  back 
to  the  hearthrug. 

"S-s-sir,"  remarked  Titus,  "it's  getting  pretty  hot 
here,  and  that  pigeon  is  just  roasting  herself." 

The  Judge  wrinkled  his  eyebrows.  "It  is  most 
unfortunate  that  that  bird  has  contracted  the  habit 
of  sitting  by  the  fire — most  abnormal,  most  abnor- 
mal. Open  the  window  and  see  whether  she  will  go 
out  on  the  balcony." 

Bethany,  who  had  been  sitting  as  close  as  possible 
to  Sukey's  basket,  silently  adoring  her,  moved  back, 
and  Titus  got  up  and  went  to  a  window. 

"C-c-come,  Sukey." 

The  pigeon  understood  him  perfectly  well,  and, 
stepping  out  of  her  basket,  she  walked  round  and 
round  in  a  state  of  great  indignation.  "Rookety 
cahoo !  rookety  cahoo !" 

"Let  her  alone,  boy,"  said  the  Judge,  "she  won't 
go  out  to-night,  it  is  too  cold.  If  we  insist,  she  will 
stand  outside  and  tap  on  the  window  until  our  nerves 
are  upset.  There,  close  the  window.  You  have 
cooled  the  room.  We  will  keep  doing  that,  in  order 
that  we  may  not  suffer  from  the  heat." 

Titus  concealed  a  smile  as  he  looked  out  into  the 


BIRDS  OF  HEAVEN  97 

cold  night.  What  a  change  had  come  over  his  grand- 
father. Who  would  have  imagined  last  Christmas 
that  this  Christmas  he  would  have  a  pet  pigeon  in 
his  study? 

"And  now  you  had  better  go  to  bed,  children," 
said  the  Judge,  as  the  big  hall  clock  struck  ten. 
"Have  you  had  a  nice  Christmas,  little  girl?" 

Bethany  went  and  stood  beside  his  armchair. 
"Sir,  it  is  the  best  Christmas  I  ever  had.  I  shall 
tell  my  mamma  about  it  to-night." 

The  Judge  said  nothing,  but  held  out  a  hand  to 
her. 

She  clasped  his  large  fingers  tightly  in  her  tiny 
ones.  "Good-night,  sir — may  I  say  the  name?" 

"O,  yes— decidedly." 

"Daddy  Grandpa,"  she  murmured,  "good-night, 
Daddy  Grandpa.  Now  Bethany  is  like  other  little 
girls.  She  isn't  all  alone  in  the  world,  like  a  poor 
stray  cat." 

The  Judge  stared  dreamily  into  the  fire.  What 
a  strange  child!  He  must  take  the  greatest  pains 
to  find  a  home  suitable  for  her  in  every  respect. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
To  ADOPT  OR  NOT  TO  ADOPT 

"ARE  you  going  out?"  asked  Bethany,  wistfully, 
of  the  Judge  the  next  morning. 

She  had  breakfasted  with  the  Judge.  She  had 
disappeared  afterward  to  visit  the  pigeon  loft  with 
Titus,  and  then  when  he  left  the  house  to  call  on  his 
friend  Charlie  she  had  gone  to  the  Judge's  study  to 
play  with  Sukey.  Now  she  stood  regretfully  watch- 
ing him  button  on  his  overcoat. 

"Yes,  I  am,"  he  replied.  "I  have  a  call  to  make ; 
would  you  like  to  go  with  me?"  he  asked,  as  an 
afterthought. 

Her  little  face  beamed.  That  was  just  what  she 
wanted. 

"But  you  haven't  any  wraps,"  said  the  Judge. 
"However,  I  can  bundle  you  up  in  something,  and 
Roblee  will  drive  us  to  Furst  Brothers.  There  we 
will  find  everything  under  one  roof.  Here  you  are," 
and,  laughing  like  a  boy,  he  smothered  her  up  in  the 
fur  coat  that  he  intended  to  give  Mafferty  and  car- 
ried her  out  to  the  sleigh. 

A  quiet-living  man,  a  man  of  simple  pleasures, 
one  who  rarely  experienced  new  sensations,  the  trip 
through  Furst  Brothers'  establishment  was  as  full 
of  interest  to  the  Judge  as  a  voyage  of  exploration 
would  have  been  to  another  man. 

First  they  visited  the  fur  department,  where  Beth- 


To  ADOPT  OR  NOT  TO  ADOPT  99 

any  stood  in  rapt  silence,  with  shining  eyes  which 
she  sometimes  tightly  closed,  and  then  suddenly 
opened  to  make  sure  that  it  was  not  all  a  dream, 
while  an  obsequious  shopwoman  tried  on  one  little 
coat  after  another. 

The  Judge's  choice  finally  fell  on  a  white  one  with 
a  cap  to  match,  and  Bethany  was  clad  in  it.  The 
Judge  directed  the  woman  to  let  the  coat  hang  open, 
as  the  store  was  very  warm.  The  little  cap  was  put 
on,  however,  and,  tightly  holding  his  hand  and 
occasionally  glancing  down  to  smooth  the  pretty  blue 
satin  lining,  Bethany  walked  as  if  in  a  trance  to  the 
shoe  department. 

There  she  was  fitted  with  several  pairs  of  shoes 
and  slippers.  Finally  rubbers  were  slipped  on  and 
a  pair  of  warm,  black,  woolen  gaiters  buttoned  over 
them.  Then  gloves  were  chosen,  and  back  they 
went  to  the  fur  department  to  buy  a  little  muff  which 
the  Judge  had  forgotten. 

"As  for  dresses  and  undergarments,"  he  said  to 
Bethany,  "Mrs.  Blodgett  must  bring  you  here.  Now 
we  will  go  to  see  my  friend." 

When  they  were  again  seated  in  the  sleigh,  and 
Bethany,  with  a  bright  pink  spot  on  each  cheek,  sat 
holding  her  hands  tightly  clasped  in  her  muff,  the 
Judge  said,  "Did  you  ever  hear  of  Mrs.  Tom  Ever- 
est while  you  were  living  on  River  Street?" 

The  child  shook  her  head. 

"No;  you  would  not.  Well,  I  must  tell  you  that 
she  is  a  very  charming  and  philanthropic  young 
woman,  the  granddaughter  of  a  once  eminent  jurist 
of  this  city." 

Bethany  had  very  little  idea  of  what  her  compan- 


ioo  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

ion  meant,  but  she  enjoyed  being  talked  to  as  if  she 
were  a  young  lady,  and  she  gravely  bent  her  head 
and  said,  "Yes,  sir." 

"Her  grandfather  was  a  much  older  man  than  I 
am,  but  I  well  remember  him  and  his  admirable  wife, 
now  also  dead.  Unfortunately,  some  time  after  his 
death  the  family  lost  their  money  and  went  to  River 
Street  to  live.  This  girl  Berty,  or,  rather,  Mrs. 
Tom  Everest,  became  greatly  interested  in  the  poor 
people  about  her,  and  when  she  married  she  per- 
suaded her  husband  to  come  and  live  with  her  in- 
stead of  moving  to  another  part  of  the  city.  They 
seem  to  be  quite  happy,  and  are  doing  much  good. 
I  am  going  to  see  her  to  ask  if  she  knows  of  any 
nice  family  where  you  would  have  young  children  to 
play  with  and  be  kindly  treated." 

"Me,  sir?"  ejaculated  Bethany,  faintly. 

"Yes;  my  house  is  not  a  suitable  place  for  you. 
You  see,  I  thought  you  were  a  boy  when  I  brought 
you  home." 

"A  boy,  sir?"  said  Bethany,  still  more  faintly. 
"O,  yes,  I  remember." 

"I  wanted  a  companion  for  my  grandson." 

"I  like  boys,  sir,"  murmured  the  little  girl, 
weakly. 

The  Judge  looked  sharply  down  at  her.  The 
lovely  color  had  faded  from  her  face.  Large  tears 
were  rolling  down  her  cheeks. 

"You  have  surely  not  got  attached  to  us  in  this 
short  time,"  he  said,  wonderingly. 

"It  doesn't  take  much  to  keep  me,  sir,"  said  Beth- 
any, desperately.  "I've  been  trying  not  to  eat  too 
much — and  mousie  could  get  on  with  less.  And  I 


To  ADOPT  OR  NOT  TO  ADOPT  101 

can  work,  sir.  Lots  of  times  I've  scrubbed  down  the 
stairs  for  Mrs.  Tingsby." 

The  Judge  made  some  kind  of  a  noise  in  his 
throat  and  looked  over  the  shoulder  farthest  away 
from  Bethany. 

They  were  gliding  swiftly  through  Broadway. 
O !  the  exquisite,  clear,  cold  air  and  the  lovely  sun- 
shine. How  good  it  was  to  be  alive,  even  if  one 
were  sixty-two;  and  he  had  just  been  stabbing  this 
faithful  little  heart  beside  him.  But,  pshaw !  Non- 
sense! A  child  of  seven  formed  no  strong  attach- 
ments in  a  day.  If  he  sent  her  away  she  would 
cling  as  closely  to  a  kind  stranger  as  she  now  ap- 
parently did  to  him. 

But  Bethany  was  talking,  very  weakly  and  brok- 
enly, but  still  talking,  and  he  must  listen. 

"Sir,"  she  murmured,  "I  could  take  care  of  the 
birds — those  beautiful  birds,  and  if  there  was  not 
room  in  the  house  I  could  sleep  in  that  lovely  loft. 
I  would  not  be  nervous  and  cry,  or  make  any  noise 
to  disturb  the  horses.  Only  once  in  a  while,  when 
you  were  out,  I  would  like  to  creep  in  the  house  to 
see  that  little  saint  with  the  hood  on." 

The  little  saint  was  Sukey,  and  the  Judge  smiled. 

"Which  do  you  love  the  best?"  he  said,  sharply, 
"me  and  my  grandson  or  the  pigeons  ?" 

"The  pigeons,  sir,"  she  said,  simply.  "But  before 
my  mamma  died  she  said,  'Bethany,  when  you  grow 
up  you  will  love  human  beings  better  than  the  ani- 
mals and  the  birds.' ' 

"Then  why  did  you  not  stay  at  home  with  the 
birds  this  morning  instead  of  coming  with  me  ?  You 
wanted  to  come,  didn't  you  ?" 


IO2  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"Yes,  sir.  I  don't  know  what  made  me  want  to 
come,  but  when  I  heard  you  putting  on  your  coat  I 
left  the  lovely  bird  and  ran  in  the  hall.  It  seemed 
as  if  I  would  be  lonely  without  you." 

The  Judge  smiled,  a  somewhat  puzzled  smile,  and 
did  not  speak  until  Roblee  drew  up  in  front  of  a 
large,  old-fashioned,  smartly  painted  house  on  River 
Street,  and  said,  "Mrs.  Everest's,  sir." 

The  Judge  started,  then  he  turned  to  Bethany. 
"Do  you  want  to  come  in  with  me?" 

"I-I  don't  just  feel  like  it,  sir,"  she  said,  hesitat- 
ingly, and  the  Judge  saw  that  her  cast-down  face 
was  again  wet  with  tears. 

"I  will  not  be  long,"  he  said,  kindly,  and  he  rang 
the  bell. 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Everest  was  at  home,"  a  trim  little 
maidservant  informed  him,  and  she  ushered  him  into 
a  large  room  on  the  ground  floor. 

The  painted  floor  of  the  room  had  only  one  rug, 
on  which  a  fat  baby  was  sprawling.  A  wire  screen 
before  a  blazing  fire  kept  in  sparks  and  prevented 
the  possibility  of  baby's  hands  being  burnt,  or,  pos- 
sibly, baby's  precious  body,  for  he  was  alone  for 
the  moment. 

Between  partly  open  sliding  doors  the  Judge  saw 
in  a  second  large  room  an  enormous  Christmas  tree 
loaded  with  gifts. 

The  air  of  the  house  was  sweet  and  wholesome. 
Looking  beyond  the  Christmas  tree,  and  through 
long  windows  which  appeared  to  be  old-fashioned 
ones  made  larger,  the  Judge  had  a  magnificent  view 
of  the  river. 

"It  is  possible  to  be  comfortable  even  on  River 


To  ADOPT  OR  NOT  TO  ADOPT  103 

Street,"  he  said,  standing  with  his  back  to  the  fire 
and  obligingly  giving  one  foot  to  the  baby,  who  was 
begging  frantically  for  it. 

"Good  morning,  good  morning,"  said  a  sudden 
gay  voice,  and  a  half-girlish,  half-womanly  figure 
entered  the  room  and  took  both  the  Judge's  out- 
stretched hands  in  her  own.  "The  very  best  of 
Christmas  blessings  on  you!" 

"And  on  you,"  he  said,  heartily,  "for  you  deserve 
them  if  anyone  does." 

"Hush,  hush,"  she  protested,  blushingly,  then  mo- 
tioning him  to  the  most  comfortable  of  the  many 
comfortable  chairs  in  the  room  she  took  the  roly- 
poly  baby  on  her  lap. 

"What  do  you  think  of  Tom,  junior?  Isn't  he 
immense  ?  You  naughty  baby,  your  mouth  is  black 
again.  He  begs  like  a  little  dog  for  everybody's 
feet — licks  the  blacking  off.  Just  imagine!  Now, 
Judge,  do  you  think  there  is  anything  servile  about 
me  or  Tom?" 

"No,  I  don't." 

"Well,  this  baby  is  an  absolute  lackey.  Cringes 
and  crawls  to  everyone — hasn't  the  spirit  of  a  mouse. 
Fancy  liking  blacking  and  coal.  You  young  rogue!" 
and  she  shook  him  till  the  baby  laughed  in  glee. 

"He  is  a  fine  child,"  said  the  Judge,  "the  picture 
of  health.  And  now  I  must  not  take  up  your  time, 
for  I  know  you  are  a  very  busy  person.  You  may 
know,  or  may  not  know,  that  for  some  time  I  have 
been  looking  for  an  orphan  boy  to  adopt." 

Mrs.  Everest  nodded  her  pretty  black  head.  "Yes, 
I  know." 

"I  didn't  apply  to  you,"  said  her  caller,  "because 


IO4  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

I  know  your  tender  heart.  You  occupy  yourself 
mostly  with  the  very  poor.  I  wanted  a  boy  of  some 
respectability." 

"Exactly.  Baby,  stop  licking  my  belt.  Did  you 
ever  see  such  a  child  ?" 

""On  Christmas  Eve,  just  two  days  ago,"  contin- 
ued the  Judge,  "I  happened  to  stumble  on  a  child 
that  I  thought  was  a  boy,  but  perhaps  you  know 
about  it,"  for  Mrs.  Everest  was  laughing  heartily. 

"O,  yes;  River  Street  knows  what  River  Street 
does." 

"Then  I  can  omit  that  part.  You  know  Mrs. 
Tingsby?" 

"O,  yes — know  her  and  esteem  her.  She  is  a 
little  shy  of  me  because  she  is  so  respectable  and 
so  self-supporting.  She  doesn't  want  me  to  help 
her.  She  thinks  she  would  lose  prestige  as  a  board- 
ing-house keeper.  Mafferty — Barry  Mafferty,  who 
runs  our  cat  farm — was  in  last  evening.  He  gave  a 
glowing  account  of  your  visit  to  Mrs.  Tingsby.  I 
wish  you  could  hear  the  nice  things  he  says  about 
you." 

"Has  he  gone  back  to  his  farm?"  asked  the 
Judge. 

"Yes,  we  persuaded  him  to  go  this  morning.  He 
gets  terribly  bored  on  the  Island,  and  comes  up 
occasionally  to  stay  for  a  day  or  two  at  Mrs.  Tings- 
by's.  Then  Tom  and  I  have  to  watch  him  to  see 
that  he  does  not  get  into  the  saloons." 

"I  promised  him  a  fur  coat,"  said  the  Judge. 

"So  he  told  me.  If  you  leave  it  here  I  will  see 
that  he  gets  it." 

"Well,"  said  the  Judge,  "to  come  back  to  my 


To  ADOPT  OR  NOT  TO  ADOPT  105 

affair.  I  don't  want  to  keep  this  little  girl.  I  want 
to  find  a  good  home  for  her,  where  her  sensitive 
nature  will  be  taken  into  account.  I  thought  per- 
haps you  would  know  of  such  a  home." 

"Does  she  want  to  leave  you?"  asked  Mrs.  Ever- 
est, quickly. 

"Well,  no,"  said  the  Judge,  honestly,  "I  don't 
think  she  does,  neither  did  she  want  to  leave  Mrs. 
Tingsby  to  come  to  me.  Children  are  fickle." 

The  pretty  girl-woman  shook  her  head.  "Mrs. 
Tingsby's  was  different.  The  child  had  been 
brought  up  to  believe  that  some  day  she  would  know 
something  better.  You  should  have  seen  her  mother. 
She  was  an  exquisite  creature.  Pale,  and  cold,  and 
quiet,  and  shy,  and  aristocratic,  and  making  friends 
only  with  Mrs.  Tingsby.  I,  in  vain,  tried  to  get 
acquainted  with  her." 

"Did  you  know  that  Mrs.  Tingsby  allowed  the 
child  to  work  at  making  paper  boxes?"  asked  the 
Judge. 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  Everest,  quickly.  "She  would 
not  dare  to  have  that  get  to  my  ears.  Do  you  know 
this  to  be  true?" 

"Yes;  the  child  was  staggering  home  when  I 
found  her." 

Mrs.  Everest  clasped  her  baby  closer  to  her.  "O, 
these  poor  people,  aren't  they  extraordinary !  Now, 
that  woman's  false  pride  won't  allow  me  to  help  her, 
and  yet  she  lets  this  poor  child  work — and  her  own, 
too,  I  daresay,  for  she  would  not  require  of  one  what 
she  would  not  require  of  the  others." 

"I  understood  her  to  say  that  they  all  had  work  of 
some  kind  through  the  Christmas  holidays.  Can 


io6  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

you  in  any  way  get  at  the  employers  of  this  child 
labor?" 

"I  shall  make  it  my  business  to  do  so,"  said  Mrs. 
Everest,  warmly.  "I  shall  go  to  see  Mrs.  Tingsby 
to-day  and  question  her." 

"If  you  want  money  for  prosecution,  call  on  me," 
said  the  Judge. 

"Thank  you,  I  will.  Well,  what  are  you  going 
to  do  about  the  little  girl  if  you  cannot  find  a  home  ? 
Don't  send  her  back  to  Mrs.  Tingsby's.  Give  her  to 
me,  rather." 

"This  would  be  a  charming  place  for  her,"  said 
the  Judge,  looking  about  him.  "I  never  thought  of 
that.  I  don't  know  anyone  I  would  rather  give  the 
child  to  than  to  you." 

"I  should  be  delighted  to  have  her,"  said  Mrs. 
Everest,  heartily,  "and  would  try  to  make  her 
happy ;  but  in  taking  her  I  would  not  have  you  sup- 
pose for  one  single  instant  that  I  think  you  are  not 
a  very  suitable  and  proper  person  to  have  charge  of 
her.  Do  you  know,  I  have  often  wondered  why  you 
have  not  done  more  active  charitable  work.  You 
are  so  eminently  qualified  for  it,  and  you  have  al- 
ways been  so  generous  and  so  sympathetic  in  your 
donations,  that  we  all  know  your  heart  is  with 
us." 

The  Judge  sighed.  "I  have  had  a  very  busy  life, 
and  then  my  troubles  have  made  me  egotistical. 
May  I  bring  the  little  girl  in  for  you  to  see  her  ?" 

"Certainly,  or  let  me  ring.    Daisy  will  get  her." 

The  happy-faced  little  maid,  upon  being  in- 
structed, quickly  ran  downstairs  and  returned  with 
Bethany. 


To  ADOPT  OR  NOT  TO  ADOPT  107 

Mrs.  Everest  put  down  the  baby  and  went  to  meet 
her.  "How  do  you  do,  dear  ?"  she  said,  kissing  her. 
Then,  drawing  her  to  the  fire,  she  took  off  her  gloves 
and  rubbed  her  fingers. 

"Why,  you  are  quite  cold,"  she  said ;  "quite  cold, 
and  you  look  forlorn." 

She  took  off  the  fur  cap,  and  for  a  few  minutes 
silently  stroked  Bethany's  pale,  unhappy  cheeks. 
Then  she  whispered,  "What  is  the  matter,  dar- 
ling?" 

Not  since  her  mother's  death  had  a  lady,  a  genu- 
ine lady,  put  her  arm  round  the  shrinking,  sensitive 
child  and  whispered  to  her  in  tones  sweet  and  clear. 
Something  in  Bethany's  heart  responded.  She  could 
not  speak,  but  she  silently  returned  the  pressure  of 
Mrs.  Everest's  hands  and  gazed  into  her  eyes  in 
dumb  misery. 

The  Judge,  in  the  meantime,  got  up,  walked  about 
the  room  in  some  embarrassment,  and  tried  to  avoid 
the  overtures  of  the  too-friendly  baby,  who  was 
creeping  briskly  after  him,  gurgling  in  his  throat, 
and  begging  for  permission  to  play  with  his  feet. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  whispered  Mrs.  Everest, 
"is  it  that  you  don't  want  to  leave  the  Judge  and 
Titus?" 

Bethany  silently  nodded  her  head. 

"Would  you  like  to  come  and  live  with  me  and 
be  my  little  girl?"  pursued  Mrs.  Everest. 

She  felt  the  little  form  shrink  within  her  arms. 

"You  would  rather  stay  with  the  Judge?" 

Bethany  nodded  again. 

Mrs.  Everest  looked  over  her  shoulder.  "What 
do  you  call  him  ?" 


io8  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"My  little  pet  name  for  him  is  Daddy  Grandpa," 
whispered  the  child,  brokenly. 

"Then  leave  me,  run  right  up  to  him,  throw  your 
arms  round  his  neck,  and  say,  'Please,  dear  Daddy 
Grandpa,  don't  send  me  away  from  you.' ' 

Somewhat  to  Mrs.  Everest's  surprise,  for  she  did 
not  know  what  a  relief  the  suggestion  was  to  the 
child's  breaking  heart,  Bethany  broke  from  her  arms 
and  rushed  to  the  Judge,  and,  not  being  able  to 
reach  his  neck,  clasped  his  coat,  or  as  much  of  it  as 
she  could  grasp,  and  fairly  shrieked  in  her  nervous- 
ness, "Dear  Daddy  Grandpa,  please  don't  send  me 
away  from  you." 

The  Judge  stopped  short.  His  first  thought  was 
that  the  active  baby  had  risen  and  was  seizing  him. 
Then  he  looked  down  into  Bethany's  agitated  face 
and  said,  "What!  What!" 

"Dear  Daddy  Grandpa,"  she  cried  again ;  then  her 
overwrought  nerves  gave  way,  and  she  burst  into  a 
frantic  fit  of  sobbing. 

"She  doesn't  want  to  live  with  me,"  said  Mrs. 
Everest,  shaking  her  black  head,  and  as  if  re- 
marking, "I  am  sorry,  but  it  is  no  concern 
of  mine,"  she  sat  down  and  took  up  her  own 
baby. 

Bethany  was  clasping  the  coat  and  crying  as  if 
her  heart  would  break. 

"Upon  my  word !"  ejaculated  the  Judge.  "Upon 
my  word !" 

This  was  his  exclamation  in  moments  of  great 
perplexity.  "Little  girl !"  he  said.  "Little  girl !" 

This  torrent  of  tears  distressed  him  and  made  him 
vaguely  alarmed. 


To  ADOPT  OR  NOT  TO  ADOPT  109 

"Bethany,  child,"  he  said,  in  haste,  "little  girl,  do 
you  want  to  go  home?" 

Home !  That  was  the  magic  word  that  the  child 
wanted. 

"O,  yes,  sir;  yes,  sir!"  she  gasped,  and  with  a 
hurried  farewell  to  Mrs.  Everest  the  Judge  picked 
up  the  sorrowful  child  in  his  arms  and  fairly  ran 
downstairs  with  her. 


CHAPTER  IX 
ANOTHER  SURPRISE 

THE  Judge's  ship  had  sailed  into  clear  waters — 
his  venture  of  the  other  day  had,  so  far,  proved 
eminently  successful. 

It  was  just  one  week  after  his  call  on  Mrs.  Ever- 
est. On  his  way  home  that  day  with  the  disturbed 
Bethany  nestling  close  to  him  in  the  sleigh  he  had 
said  to  himself  many  times,  "I  don't  know  what 
Titus  will  say — I  don't  know  what  Titus  will  say." 

Titus  said  very  little.  When  his  grandfather 
called  him  into  his  study  and  told  him  that  Bethany 
seemed  to  be  greatly  upset  at  the  thought  of  leaving 
them,  Titus  replied  briefly,  "T-t-then  keep  her,  sir." 

"But  the  brother  for  you — the  boy  I  was  going 
to  adopt,"  said  the  Judge. 

"I-I-I  don't  want  a  brother,  sir,"  Titus  returned; 
"never  did  want  one — a-a-am  glad  to  get  rid  of  the 
thought  of  one." 

"Then  you  like  this  little  girl?"  said  the  Judge, 
anxiously. 

"D-d-don't  like  her  and  don't  dislike  her,"  Titus 
replied.  "She  isn't  in  my  way — isn't  bad  as  girls 
go." 

The  matter  ended  here  as  far  as  discussion  went, 
and  Bethany  slipped  into  her  place  as  a  member  of 
the  household.  She  was  a  very  good  child,  quiet 
and  well  behaved,  and  insensibly  she  was  becoming 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  in 

a  great  comfort  and  a  great  amusement  to  the  Judge. 
He  loved  to  see  her  down  on  the  hearthrug  playing 
with  the  pigeon  and  talking  to  her.  For  it  was  abso- 
lutely necessary  for  Bethany  to  have  a  listener.  She 
dreamed  such  wonderful  dreams  and  saw  such 
astonishing  visions  that  it  took  several  hours  a  day 
of  some  one's  time  to  listen  to  her. 

Bethany  felt  that  the  pigeon  was  sympathetic. 
She  always  listened  with  her  greenish-yellow  eyes 
bent  attentively  on  her,  and  at  times  she  interposed 
a  lively  "Rookety  cahoo!"  So  at  least  she  was  not 
asleep,  as  the  Judge  sometimes  was,  when  Bethany 
was  relating  her  marvels. 

She  had  soon  got  the  Judge  to  show  her  the  pic- 
tures of  Ellen  and  Susie,  his  two  little  girls  that 
had  died,  and  now  nearly  every  night  Bethany  fan- 
cied that  she  saw  them.  She  described  them  dressed 
in  their  old-fashioned  little  garments,  their  hair 
braided  in  little  tails  tied  with  ribbon,  their  talk 
quaint  and  demure  and  seasoned  with  Bethany's 
maxims. 

The  Judge,  touched  and  amused,  listened  to  as 
many  of  her  conversations  as  he  had  time  or  inclina- 
tion for,  then  he  went  to  sleep,  and  Bethany  turned 
to  the  pigeon. 

On  this  particular  day  the  Judge  was  reading  his 
morning's  mail. 

Bethany  had  gone  to  school — the  Judge  had  found 
a  kindergarten  round  the  corner  on  a  quiet  street — 
and  Titus  was  taking  a  lesson  from  a  gentleman 
who  had  effected  a  number  of  famous  cures  in  cases 
of  stuttering,  and  who  came  all  the  way  from  Boston 
to  treat  him. 


ii2  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

So  far  he  had  done  no  good.  Titus  was  a  mild, 
persistent,  and  consistent  stutterer.  He  never  failed 
to  hesitate  at  the  beginning  of  a  sentence  unless  he 
was  deeply  moved  about  something — he  rarely 
stopped  in  the  middle  of  one. 

The  Judge,  fearing  Higby's  bad  example,  had 
spoken  of  sending  him  away,  though  it  was  with 
extreme  reluctance  that  he  even  spoke  of  discharging 
so  faithful  a  servant.  Titus's  teacher  did  not  urge 
him  to  do  so.  He  said  that  Higby  was  a  stam- 
merer, while  Titus,  as  yet,  only  stuttered.  The  boy's 
habit  could  be  broken  if  he  gave  himself  earnestly 
to  breaking  it  up.  "Wait  a  little,"  he  said  to  the 
Judge.  "He  does  not  take  himself  seriously  yet. 
Wait  till  something  rouses  him  and  makes  him  co- 
operate with  me." 

"I  should  think  that  his  comrades  making  fun  of 
him  would  arouse  him,"  said  the  Judge. 

"It  probably  will,  but  later  on,"  replied  the  teach- 
er, so  the  Judge  was  obliged  to  possess  his  soul  in 
patience. 

On  this  morning  Titus  was  to  finish  his  lesson 
and  then  go  to  school.  At  present  he  was  in  a  small 
sitting  room,  while  the  Judge  was  in  his  study  just 
across  the  hall. 

Presently  the  master  of  the  house  took  up  a  note 
written  in  a  dainty  feminine  hand. 

It  was  from  the  lady  who  was  teaching  Bethany. 
The  Judge  read  it,  then  he  began  to  laugh.  Mrs. 
Hume  was  speaking  of  Bethany's  facility  in  making 
paper  boxes;  she  was  a  marvelous,  a  wonderful 
child;  she  outdistanced  all  the  others.  She  was  a 
prodigy. 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  113 

The  Judge  laughed  more  heartily  than  ever.  He 
could  fancy  demure  little  Bethany's  slender  fingers 
manipulating  the  too  familiar  cardboard.  The  child 
had  evidently  not  told  her  teacher  where  she  had 
learned  the  art  of  making  boxes.  She  was  an  honest 
child,  but  she  was  inclined  to  be  shy  with  strangers. 
Just  as  well  in  this  case  for  her  to  be  so.  Her  asso- 
ciates were  mostly  Grand  Avenue  children.  Young 
as  they  were,  they  might  look  strangely  upon  the 
little  girl  who  had  been  obliged  to  earn  her  living. 

It  was  very  amusing,  though,  to  the  Judge  to  read 
this  lady's  gushing  remarks  on  the  subject  of  Beth- 
any's dexterity.  He  laughed  again,  and  this  time 
with  such  heartiness  that  he  had  to  put  up  a  hand- 
kerchief to  wipe  the  tears  from  his  eyes.  Then  he 
somewhat  ruefully  surveyed  the  remaining  heap  of 
letters. 

"Who  laughs  hard  prepares  to  cry  harder,"  he 
said,  seriously.  "There  will  be  something  there  to 
make  me  sad." 

There  was.  The  next  letter  he  took  up  caused  his 
jaw  to  drop  like  that  of  an  old  man. 

He  was  absolutely  confounded.  He  sat  stock 
still,  gazing  with  unseeing  eyes  at  the  pigeon,  who, 
sharp  enough  to  perceive  that  there  was  something 
the  matter  with  him,  flew  up  on  the  table,  paraded 
over  his  heap  of  letters  and  papers,  and  uttered  an 
inquiring  "Rookety  cahoo?" 

The  Judge  did  not  hear  her,  and  yet  he  was  lis- 
tening intently.  His  own  door  was  ajar,  and  when 
a  few  minutes  later  the  sitting  room  door  opened 
and  Titus  came  out  into  the  hall  he  called,  weakly, 
"Grandson!" 


ii4  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Now  he  never  said  "Grandson!"  unless  some- 
thing serious  was  the  matter,  so  Titus  hastened  to 
him. 

"What  is  it?"  he  asked,  forgetting  to  stutter  as 
he  always  did  when  greatly  excited. 

The  Judge  straightened  himself.  "I've  had  a 
blow.  Read  that — or  listen.  The  writing  is  bad," 
and  he  threw  himself  back  in  his  chair  and,  putting 
on  his  glasses,  took  up  the  letter. 

"Who  is  it  from?"  inquired  Titus. 

"Do  you  remember  hearing  me  speak  of  Folsom, 
an  old  university  friend  of  mine?" 

"The  fellow  that  was  so  crazy  about  work  among 
the  poor?" 

"The  same.  Poor  Folsom,  he  was  always  an  en- 
thusiast, but  I  considered  him  reliable.  He  became 
a  clergyman  and  went  to  New  York  in  connection 
with  the  mission  work  of  some  church.  Listen  to 
what  he  writes : 

"  'My  DEAR  SANCROFT  :  What  a  whiff  of  good 
times  I  have  had  this  morning !  I  left  the  slums  for 
a  call  on  our  dear  old  Georgeson  of  the  Era,  into 
whose  pockets  my  hand  is  permitted  to  go  pretty 
freely.  I  found  him  seated  in  his  magnificent  office, 
a  financial  king  on  his  throne.  He  showed  me  your 
letter  to  him  about  a  boy  to  adopt.  "Georgeson," 
said  I,  "I  have  just  the  thing."  He  advised  me  to 
correspond  with  you,  but  what  need  is  there  of 
correspondence  when  I  have  the  very  article  you 
want.  An  English  actor  died  in  my  rooms  the  other 
day,  a  man  of  the  highest  respectability.  He  left 
one  lad — a  jewel  of  a  boy,  fair-haired  and  sunny- 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  115 

tempered.  Just  the  companion  you  would  wish  for 
your  own  lad,  who,  if  he  resembles  his  grandfather, 
will  be  dark  as  to  hair  and  eyes.  This  boy  has 
absolutely  not  a  relative  in  the  world.  He  is  a 
thorough  gentleman ;  you  will  love  him  as  a  son.  I 
have  not  time  to  hear  from  you.  Will  put  him  on 
one  of  the  morning  trains  for  Boston.  You  may 
expect  him  some  time  Thursday.  Don't  forget  my 
work  among  the  poor.  God  has  blessed  you  freely ; 
freely  give. 

"  'Your  old  friend, 

"  'RALPH  FOLSOM.' 

"Rattlebrain!  Gusher!  Enthusiast!"  exclaimed 
the  Judge  when  he  finished.  His  stupefaction  was 
over.  He  began  to  be  angry. 

"Do  you  see  he  does  not  even  ask  to  hear  from 
me  what  I  think  of  this,"  he  went  on,  shaking  the 
letter  at  Titus,  who  sat  open-mouthed.  "He  is  so 
sure  he  is  right.  He  always  was — rushed  headlong 
into  every  breach.  I  would  not  have  had  him  mixed 
up  in  this  matter  for  a  very  great  deal.  Georgeson 
is  a  foolish  man  not  to  keep  his  own  council,"  and 
in  considerable  excitement  the  Judge  got  up  and 
paced  the  floor. 

"If  I  knew  when  he  was  coming  I  would  meet  him 
at  the  station  and  send  him  right  back  to  Folsom," 
he  said  at  last,  stopping  before  Titus. 

"Well,  sir,"  said  the  boy,  "he's  got  to  come  on 
the  10:30  or  the  3:15.  If  he  comes  on  the  10:30 
he's  here  now.  I'll  look  out  the  hall  window  now," 
and  he  stepped  outside. 

"Jiminy!"  he  exclaimed,  rushing  back,  "here's 


u6  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

an  open  sleigh  coming  full  tilt  down  the  avenue 
with  a  boy  in  it." 

The  Judge  wheeled  round  as  if  to  go  into  the  hall, 
then  he  stopped  short.  "I  can't  see  him.  After  all, 
it  isn't  his  fault,  and  he  has  been  lately  bereaved. 
Do  you  receive  him,  Titus?" 

"I-I-I  was  going  to  school,"  said  Titus,  who,  hav- 
ing recovered  his  equilibrium,  began  to  stutter; 
"shall  I  take  him  with  me?" 

"Yes,  no;  I  don't  care,"  said  the  Judge.  "Tell 
him  how  things  are  if  you  get  a  chance.  I'll  see 
him  at  lunch." 

Titus  darted  out  of  the  room,  went  running  and 
limping  down  the  stairs,  and  was  beside  Higby  when 
he  opened  the  door. 

A  tall,  pale,  handsome  lad  in  a  thin  light  overcoat 
stood  on  the  threshold. 

"Is  this  Judge  Sancrof t's  house  ?"  he  asked,  fixing 
his  bright  blue  eyes  on  Higby  and  yet  casting  a 
glance  beyond  at  Titus. 

Higby  nodded. 

The  boy  turned,  and  the  driver  came  running  up 
the  steps  with  a  shabby  leather  bag. 

The  boy  himself  was  carrying  in  his  hand  a  small 
padlocked  wooden  box  with  a  perforated  cover. 
After  paying  the  driver  he  followed  Higby,  who  was 
taking  his  bag  into  the  hall. 

Titus,  in  his  confusion,  was  saying  nothing,  and 
the  boy,  turning  to  him,  remarked  courteously,  "I 
suppose  you  are  Judge  Sancrof  t's  grandson  ?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Titus,  simply,  "I  am."  Then  he 
continued  staring  at  his  guest,  until  a  half  smile  on 
the  stranger's  face  recalled  him  to  himself. 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  117 

"Take  off  your  coat,"  he  said,  suddenly,  "and 
come  in  to  the  fire.  There  isn't  any  in  the  parlor," 
and  he  thrust  his  head  in  the  doorway,  "but  come 
in  the  dining  room — there's  sure  to  be  a  good  one 
there." 

The  boy  threw  his  thin  coat  over  a  hall  chair,  put 
his  small  wooden  box  under  it  and  his  hat  on  top, 
then  followed  Titus. 

"Are  you  cold?"  inquired  Titus,  motioning  his 
guest  to  one  of  the  big  leather-covered  chairs  by  the 
fireplace  and  taking  the  other  himself. 

"Not  at  all,  thank  you,"  said  the  boy,  but  the 
hands  that  he  held  out  to  the  blaze  were  red  and 
covered  with  chilblains,  and  Titus,  remembering  his 
thin  gloves,  felt  sorry  that  he  had  asked  the  question. 

"I  dare  say  you're  hungry,"  observed  Titus,  sud- 
denly. "I  always  am  when  I've  been  in  the  train. 
What  would  you  like?  It's  a  good  while  before 
lunch." 

"Ah,  thank  you,"  said  the  other,  politely;  "if  I 
might  have  a  little  meat,  just  a  little." 

"Meat,"  repeated  Titus,  "certainly.  Higby,"  and 
he  turned  toward  the  man,  who,  with  a  face  brimful 
of  curiosity,  was  coming  in  with  some  coal  for  the 
fire,  "please  have  some  meat  brought  up." 

"And  have  it  raw,"  said  the  stranger,  with  ex- 
quisite courtesy. 

Titus  threw  a  glance  at  the  boy's  pale  cheeks.  He 
looked  sick.  Probably  he  was  taking  a  raw-meat 
cure. 

"What  kind  of  m-m-meat  ?"  inquired  Higby,  gog- 
gling at  the  newcomer. 

"Any  kind,"  replied  the  boy,  smoothly. 


n8  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"What's  your  name?"  blurted  Titus,  in  an  em- 
barrassed manner  when  Higby  had  left  the  room. 

"Dallas  de  Warren." 

"Ah!"  said  Titus,  and  he  drew  a  long  breath. 
Then  a  succession  of  confused  thoughts  began  to 
pass  through  his  brain.  He  was  not  a  brilliant  boy, 
but  he  was  not  without  shrewdness.  He  felt  that 
the  lad  before  him,  though  perfectly  calm  and  appar- 
ently happy,  had  been  led  to  expect  a  different  wel- 
come from  this.  The  enthusiastic,  elderly  clergy- 
man in  New  York  had  probably  told  the  lad  that 
the  two  Bancrofts  would  fall  on  his  neck.  What 
could  Titus  do  to  be  more  agreeable?  He  would 
better  apologize  for  his  grandfather.  The  lad  had 
not  mentioned  him,  but  Titus  felt  sure  that  he  was 
thinking  of  him. 

"Dallas,"  he  said,  bluntly,  "my  grandfather  won't 
be  down  till  half-past  one.  He  is  busy  in  his  study 
— gets  a  lot  of  letters  in  the  morning." 

"Indeed,"  replied  the  boy,  with  a  movement  of 
his  head  like  that  of  an  older  person,  "I  can  fancy 
that  he  is  very  much  occupied.  And  then  he  would 
hardly  get  Mr.  Folsom's  letter  saying  I  was  coming 
until  this  morning." 

"No,  he  didn't,"  said  Titus,  "he  had  just  got  it 
when  you  came." 

"Then  I  would  be  a  kind  of  surprise  to  him,"  said 
the  boy,  pleasantly,  and  his  big  blue  eyes  fixed  them- 
selves calmly  on  Titus's  dark  face. 

The  Bancroft  boy  was  in  torture.  He  felt  him- 
self growing  crimson.  His  cheeks  would  tell  the 
whole  story. 

They  did.     The  English  boy  understood.     He 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  119 

was  not  wanted.  However,  his  manner  did  not 
change. 

He  coolly  uncrossed  his  feet,  put  the  left  one 
where  the  right  one  had  been,  so  that  it  would  get 
a  little  more  heat  from  the  fire,  and  meditatively 
gazed  at  the  leaping  flames. 

Titus,  with  a  dull  pain  at  his  heart,  noted  that 
the  boy's  shoes  were  more  than  half  worn.  One  of 
them,  indeed,  had  a  hole  in  it.  Why  were  things 
so  unequal  in  this  world?  He  never  used  to  notice 
that  there  was  a  difference  between  other  boys  and 
himself.  Now  he  was  beginning  to  see  that  boys 
just  as  deserving .  as  himself  and  Charlie  Brown 
were  shabbily  and  insufficiently  dressed.  Why,  this 
boy,  for  instance,  had  not  enough  on  to  keep  him 
warm.  Why  was  it?  Why  had  he  no  rich  grand- 
father to  clothe  him? 

"Here  is  the  meat,  sir,"  said  Higby,  trotting  into 
the  room  with  a  plate  in  his  hand;  "minced  beef, 
sir,"  and  he  respectfully  put  it  on  the  table  near  the 
English  boy." 

A  shade  passed  over  the  stranger's  face.  With 
all  his  self-possession  he  could  not  help  showing 
that  he  was  disappointed. 

"What's  wrong?"  asked  Titus,  bluntly. 

"O,  nothing — nothing,"  replied  Dallas,  with  a 
wave  of  his  hand.  "Only  that  I  would  have  pre- 
ferred it  whole.  I  should  have  said  so ;  it  was  stupid 
in  me." 

"Have  you  any  more?"  said  Titus  to  Higby. 

"Yes,  sir ;  a  whole  joint." 

"Then  take  that  away  and  get  an  uncut  piece." 

The  English  boy's  face  lighted  up  strangely. 


I2O  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"And,  Higby,"  said  Titus,  "bring  crackers  and 
something  to  drink.  What  will  you  have,  Dallas?" 

"O,  anything,"  said  the  boy,  politely;  "any  kind 
of  wine — sherry,  perhaps." 

Titus  drew  his  dark  eyebrows  together.  "My 
grandfather  is  a  strict  temperance  man ;  won't  have 
wine  in  the  house,  even  for  pudding  sauces." 

"O,  indeed,"  said  the  boy,  lightly,  and  with  veiled 
amusement;  "well,  it  doesn't  matter.  Cold  water 
will  do,  or  a  cup  of  tea." 

"We  have  homemade  w-w-wines,  sir,"  said  Hig- 
by, insinuatingly. 

"Bring  him  some  rhubarb,"  said  Titus;  "that  is 
good." 

Higby  disappeared,  and  Titus  sank  back  into  his 
chair.  There  was  a  heavy  dew  of  perspiration  on 
his  lip.  He  did  not  like  this  business  of  entertain- 
ing. What  could  he  do  to  amuse  his  guest  while 
Higby  was  absent?  Perhaps  the  new  boy  liked 
pigeons. 

"I  say,"  he  remarked,  suddenly,  "do  you  like  any 
kind  of  pet  birds?" 

Dallas  scrutinized  Titus's  face  intently  before 
he  replied;  then  he  said,  "I'm  awfully  fond  of 
them." 

"What  kind?"  asked  Titus. 

"Well,  I  like  canaries  and  robins — " 

Titus's  face  was  unresponsive,  and  the  stranger 
went  on,  tentatively,  "and  doves,  and  linnets,  and 
thrushes,  and  mocking-birds — " 

He  had  not  struck  the  right  kind  of  bird  yet,  and 
he  put  up  a  hand  and  pushed  back  the  light  hair 
from  his  pale  forehead. 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  121 

"Cage  birds,  do  you  mean  ?"  he  said,  courteously, 
"or  yard  birds?" 

"I  mean  pigeons,"  replied  his  host,  dryly. 

"O,  pigeons,"  said  Dallas,  with  relief;  "they're 
my  favorite  birds.  I  love  them." 

He  spoke  so  warmly  that  Titus's  heart  was  almost 
touched  in  one  of  his  tenderest  spots.  Almost,  but 
not  quite.  He  had  a  vague  distrust  of  this  English 
boy,  with  his  fine  manners  and  his  peculiar,  lofty 
accent.  However,  Titus  felt  ashamed  of  himself 
for  this  distrust,  and  therefore  said  in  a  gruffly  polite 
tone,  "Want  to  see  mine  ?  I've  got  some  beauties  ?" 

The  stranger's  face  clouded  the  very  least  little 
bit  in  the  world. 

"There  are  one  or  two  things  I  should  like 
to  unpack  first,"  he  said,  eyeing  the  tray  that 
Higby  was  bringing  in.  "After  that  I  should  be 
delighted — " 

"Very  well,"  said  Titus,  "you  eat  your  meat  and 
I'll  go  see  what  room  you're  to  have." 

Catching  sight  of  Mrs.  Blodgett  in  the  big  up- 
stairs pantry  he  rushed  in. 

"Blodgieblossom,"  he  said,  "there's  a  boy  here — 
he's  going  to  stay  all  night.  Which  room  shall  I 
take  him  to?" 

"Bless  me,  Master  Titus,"  said  the  woman,  with- 
drawing her  gaze  from  the  china  closet,  "give  me 
a  little  notice.  The  bed  has  to  be  aired  and  clean 
sheets  put  on,  and  dusting  to  be  done." 

"I  tell  you,  he's  got  to  go  in  it  now,"  said  Titus, 
imperiously.  "I  want  him  to  hurry  up  and  come 
with  me  to  the  pigeon  loft." 

Mrs.  Blodgett  smiled.     She  took  to  herself  the 


122  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

credit  of  the  acquisition  of  so  many  handsome  birds. 
Everything  had  to  give  way  to  the  pigeons,  and, 
feeling  in  one  of  the  pockets  of  her  big  apron  for 
her  bunch  of  keys,  she  said,  "You  can  follow  me, 
dear  lad,  in  five  minutes  to  the  wee  clock  room. 
I  guess  that  will  do,  won't  it  ?" 

"Yes,  if  it's  large  enough,"  said  Titus,  doubt- 
fully. 

"It's  big  enough  for  a  night  or  two,"  she  said, 
easily,  and  she  proceeded  on  her  way  upstairs. 

Near  the  front  hall  door  she  met  Higby. 

"Say,"  he  whispered,  seizing  her  by  the  sleeve, 
"say,  I  believe  the  Judge  has  ad-d-dopted  another 
boy." 

Mrs.  Blodgett  could  not  speak.  She  stared  at  him 
silently  for  a  few  instants,  then  with  a  strange  weak- 
ness at  her  knees  began  ascending  the  stairs. 

Titus  went  back  to  the  dining  room.  The  new 
boy  had  eaten  his  crackers  and  drunk  the  wine,  but 
he  had  the  plate  of  meat  in  his  hand. 

"I  think  I  will  take  this  upstairs,"  he  said,  pleas- 
antly. 

"All  right,"  said  Titus,  and  he  slowly  led  the  way 
to  the  hall. 

Everything  was  gone  that  belonged  to  the  boy — 
leather  bag,  coat,  and  wooden  box. 

His  face  fell,  and  he  looked  almost  angry. 

"The  servants  have  taken  them  up,"  said  Titus, 
noticing  his  discomposure. 

"O,  very  kind  of  them,"  said  the  boy,  hurriedly. 
"I  am  so  unused  to  be  waited  on,"  and  he  went  up- 
stairs so  quickly  that,  although  not  knowing  the 
way,  he  kept  ahead  of  Titus. 


ANOTHER  SURPRISE  123 

Mrs.  Blodgett  and  Higby  were  both  fussing  about 
the  little  room,  where  a  Swiss  cuckoo  clock  hung  in 
the  corner. 

The  English  boy  tried  to  subdue  his  impatience 
as  he  glanced  at  them,  and  as  soon  as  they  left  the 
room  he  put  his  plate  of  meat  down  on  the  dress- 
ing table  and  looked  at  Titus. 

"Wants  to  eat  alone  like  a  dog,"  thought  the 
latter  to  himself,  and  saying,  "I'll  wait  for  you  out- 
side," he  walked  toward  the  door. 

He  threw  a  glance  over  his  shoulder  before  he 
went  out  and  saw  the  English  lad  go  fussily  toward 
the  little  padlocked  wooden  box  that  he  had  been 
carrying  in  his  hand  when  he  arrived  and  carefully 
lift  it  to  the  table  beside  the  plate  of  meat. 

"Must  have  some  treasure  in  it,"  murmured  Titus, 
and  he  went  on  his  way  to  lounge  about  the  halls, 
wipe  the  perspiration  from  his  face,  and  wonder 
what  his  grandfather  would  say  to  the  English  boy. 


CHAPTER  X 
THE  ENGLISH  BOY 

BETHANY  came  home  from  school  that  day  full 
of  glee.  She  had  gained  a  little  prize  for  good  work. 

"What  kind  of  work  ?"  inquired  the  Judge. 

Bethany  looked  up  at  him  and  smiled — such  a 
demure,  knowing  little  smile.  Then  she  pressed  his 
hand  to  her  lips.  "Making  boxes,  Daddy  Grandpa." 

She  was  swinging  on  the  Judge's  hand,  leading 
him  down  to  the  lunch  table.  Every  day  she  ran 
up  to  his  study  at  one  o'clock  when  she  came  from 
school.,  That  gave  her  time  for  a  little  chat  with 
him  and  a  play  with  Sukey  before  the  bell  rang  for 
lunch. 

She  noticed  that  the  Judge  was  graver  than  usual 
to-day,  and  she  said  suddenly,  "Are  you  ill,  Daddy 
Grandpa?" 

"No,  child,"  he  said,  slowly,  but  he  immediately 
lapsed  into  gravity.  He  always  felt  deeply  morti- 
fied and  ashamed  of  himself  after  any  indulgence 
in  excitement  or  annoyance.  He  had  been  greatly 
disturbed  this  morning — foolishly  so.  There  was 
no  necessity  for  annoyance.  All  that  he  had  to  do 
was  to  take  the  affair  calmly  and  to  send  the  boy 
back. 

So  it  was  really  with  kindness  and  sympathy  that 
he  shook  the  hand  of  the  orphan  lad  standing  beside 
Titus  in  the  dining  room. 


THE  ENGLISH  BOY  125 

The  English  boy  was  somewhat  puzzled.  At  first 
he  had  been  sure  that  this  old  gentleman  did  not 
want  him.  Now  he  was  not  so  sure  about  it,  so 
fatherly  was  the  Judge's  manner. 

Bethany  was  the  life  of  the  table.  She  was  not 
a  chatterbox,  but  she  possessed  a  peculiar  mind,  and 
what  she  said  often  amused  the  Judge  and  always 
amused  Titus. 

The  English  boy  was  greatly  taken  with  her.  His 
glance  rested  often  upon  her  pretty  brown  head, 
and  he  secretly  and  bitterly  envied  her.  Here,  he 
thought,  in  ignorance  of  her  past  life,  is  a  child  born 
to  affluence  and  delightful  surroundings.  How  little 
she  knows  of  the  cold  world  and  the  struggling  for 
existence  there. 

Bethany  was  prattling  about  ghosts,  one  of  her 
favorite  subjects.  Last  night  she  had  talked  with 
Ellen  and  Susie,  the  Judge's  two  little  daughters. 

"W-w-what  were  they  doing?"  said  Titus,  seri- 
ously. He  did  not  dare  to  jest  upon  such  a  subject, 
though  sometimes  his  boyish  soul  was  sorely 
tempted  to  do  so. 

"Ellen,  she  had  a  little  basket  in  her  hands,  and 
she  was  going  to  pick  blueberries,"  replied  Bethany. 
"She  said,  'Bethany,  come  with  us.' ' 

"And  did  you  go?"  asked  Titus. 

"Course  I  did;  I,  and  Ellen,  and  Susie  set  out. 
We  hadn't  gone  far  when  we  met  a  lion." 

"A-a-a  lion!"  ejaculated  Titus. 

"Yes,  a  truly  lion,"  said  Bethany,  smiling  enough 
to  show  two  rows  of  white  little  teeth ;  "a  kind  Mr. 
Lion.  Said  he,  'Little  girls,  come  with  me.  I'll 
show  you  where  the  blueberries  grow.'  Ellen  said, 


126  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

'Mr.  Lion,  how  do  you  know  where  the  blueberries 
grow,  because  we  haven't  any  lions  in  America.' 
Mr.  Lion  said  he  had  run  away  from  a  circus  be- 
cause the  men  beat  him  and  fired  pistols  at  him,  and 
he  was  living  on  blueberries,  and  they  were  very 
sweet." 

"N-n-now,  Bethany,"  interposed  Titus,  "a  lion 
is  a  meat-eating  animal ;  it  couldn't  live  on  berries." 

"But,  boy,"  she  replied  (she  often  called  him 
boy),  with  an  obstinate  little  shake  of  her  head, 
"this  was  a  ghost  lion." 

"A  dream  lion,  you  mean,"  said  Titus. 

She  turned  her  clear  eyes  on  the  Judge.  "You 
understand  me,  Daddy  Grandpa  ?" 

Her  faith  in  him  was  so  great  that  he  would  not 
have  had  the  heart  to  shake  it  even  if  he  had  wished 
to  do  so.  Therefore  he  nodded  kindly,  and  Bethany 
proceeded : 

"The  dear  ghost  lion  took  us  on  his  back — Ellen 
and  Susie  and  me — and  we  hadn't  gone  far  before 
we  met  a  bear." 

"A-a-a  bear !"  said  Titus,  in  pretended  surprise. 

"Yes,  a  bad,  bad  bear.  Said  the  bad,  bad  bear, 
'I  am  looking  for  little  girls.' 

"Said  the  dear  ghost  lion,  with  a  sweet  roar, 
'What  kind  of  little  girls?' 

"Said  the  big  black  bear,  'Little  girls  who  haven't 
any  home.  I  eat  them  up,  or  I  take  them  to  my  cubs 
in  my  den.' 

"Said  the  good  ghost  lion,  'Why  don't  you  eat 
little  girls  that  have  good  homes  ?' 

"  '  'Cause,'  he  said,  '  'cause  the  fathers  and  moth- 
ers would  be  so,  so  angry.  They  would  come  and 


THE  ENGLISH  BOY  127 

hunt  me  and  kill  my  dear  baby  cubs.  I'm  only 
looking  for  little  orphan  girls.  Answer  my  question 
quick :  Have  those  little  girls  on  your  back  got  any 
parents  ?' 

"  'No,'  said  the  dear  lion,  'but  they  have  the  next 
best  thing — they  have  a  Daddy  Grandpa.  He'll  kill 
you  and  eat  your  cubs  if  you  dare  to  touch  them. 
Stand  aside,  wretch !' ' 

Titus,  at  this  quietly  dramatic  command  of  the 
lion,  became  so  convulsed  with  amusement  that 
Bethany,  in  confusion,  stopped,  and  would  not  go 
on. 

Titus,  recovering  himself,  begged  her  pardon,  but 
she  was  inexorable. 

"  'Ceptin'  Daddy  Grandpa,  no  boy  shall  ever 
know  what  became  of  the  good  lion  and  the  bad 
bear,"  she  said,  firmly,  but  without  the  slightest 
resentment,  for  she  immediately  went  on  talking  to 
Titus  on  other  subjects. 

She  did  not  seem  to  show  much  curiosity  with 
regard  to  the  English  boy,  though  he  was  gazing 
at  her  with  the  greatest  amusement  and  interest. 

Her  prattle  soothed  the  Judge ;  she  was  beginning 
to  be  a  great  comfort  to  him.  A  little  girl  about 
the  house  was  more  company  than  a  boy,  and  she  was 
quieter.  He  liked  boys,  and  yet  there  were  times 
when  he  would  just  as  soon  have  a  whirlwind  in 
his  study  as  his  dear  grandson  Titus.  Bethany  was 
never  noisy,  never  violent.  She  crept  about  the 
house  after  him  like  a  little  mouse. 

"Yes,  dear,"  he  said;  "what  is  it?"  for  she  was 
patiently  waiting  for  him  to  answer  some  question. 
"May  you  go  to  drive  with  me  this  afternoon  ?  Cer- 


128  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

tainly ;  it  is  much  pleasanter  to  have  a  little  girl  than 
to  go  alone." 

Then,  for  they  had  all  finished  eating,  he  got  up 
from  the  table. 

"I  want  to  speak  to  you,  my  lad,"  he  said,  laying 
a  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  the  English  boy. 

Titus  looked  pityingly  after  Dallas  as  the  Judge 
led  the  way  to  the  large,  handsome  parlor — the 
one  room  that  they  all  disliked,  since  there  was  no 
woman  in  the  house  to  give  it  a  homelike  air. 

The  Judge  closed  the  door  after  him,  then  he 
turned  to  Dallas. 

"My  boy,"  he  said,  kindly,  "I  am  very  sorry  to 
inform  you  that  you  have  come  here  through  a 
mistake.  Mr.  Folsom  was  not  authorized  to  send 
you.  I  do  not  see  anything  for  you  to  do  but  to 
go  back." 

Whatever  the  English  boy's  feelings  were,  he 
bravely  surmounted  them  and,  quietly  bowing  his 
head,  he  said,  respectfully,  "very  well ;  I  will  do  as 
you  wish." 

"You  look  pale,"  said  the  Judge,  kindly.  "I  do 
not  think  the  air  of  New  York  is  good  for  growing 
lads,  so  if  you  wish  I  will  allow  you  to  stay  here 
a  few  days  before  going  back  to  Mr.  Folsom." 

The  boy's  face  flushed  gratefully.  "I  am  greatly 
pleased  to  accept  your  offer,  sir ;  I  will  stay  gladly." 

"I  will  advise  Mr.  Folsom  of  my  decision,"  said 
the  Judge,  "so  that  he  can  be  making  other  arrange- 
ments for  you.  In  the  meantime,  amuse  yourself 
as  best  you  can.  My  grandson  will,  I  know,  do  all 
he  can  to  entertain  you,"  and  the  Judge  paused  and 
glanced  delicately  at  the  lad's  thin  suit  of  clothes. 


THE  ENGLISH  BOY  129 

"I  will  take  you  to  my  tailor's  this  afternoon." 

Dallas's  face  became  as  red  as  fire.  "I  would 
rather  not,  sir ;  if  I  am  not  to  stay  here  I  can  accept 
no  favors." 

"Nonsense,  my  boy,"  replied  the  Judge.  "By 
staying  a  few  days  you  are  accepting  a  favor,  and 
you  are  not  suitably  dressed  for  this  cold  weather. 
If  I  were  a  poor  boy,  and  you  a  well-to-do  man, 
would  you  not  give  me  a  suit  of  clothes?" 

"Yes,  indeed,"  he  said,  earnestly. 

"Then  think  no  more  about  it.  It  is  no  disgrace 
to  be  poor.  It  is  a  disgrace  to  suffer  when  friends 
are  willing  to  relieve  you." 

The  Judge  paused,  and  the  interview  was  closed. 

Dallas  went  away,  and  Titus  was  informed  by 
his  grandfather  of  what  had  occurred. 

"I  want  you  to  entertain  him  for  a  few  days,"  the 
Judge  said. 

"Very  well,  sir,"  replied  the  boy,  submissively,  but 
there  was  no  pleasure  on  his  face,  nor  graciousness 
in  his  manner. 

"Don't  you  like  this  boy  ?"  asked  the  Judge. 

"I  don't  know  him,"  said  Titus,  gruffly. 

The  Judge  pondered.  Titus  was  not  stuttering; 
he  was  disturbed  in  some  way. 

"He  speaks  peculiarly,"  remarked  the  Judge,  "at 
least  to  our  ears.  We  do  not  hear  very  much  that 
broad  sound  of  the  'a'  here." 

Titus  maintained  a  grim  silence. 

"Suppose  you  were  alone  in  the  world?"  sug- 
gested the  Judge,  softly. 

"I'll  take  care  of  him,  sir,"  said  Titus,  almost 
roughly,  and  he  hurried  away. 


130  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

He  kept  his  word.  For  five  days  he  was  just  as 
attentive  to  the  stranger  as  one  lad  could  be  to  an- 
other. They  were  scarcely  separated  one  hour,  and 
there  was  not  a  hint  of  discord  between  them.  The 
Judge  saw  very  little  of  them  except  at  meal  times. 
He  was  struck  by  the  exquisite  and  unfailing  cour- 
tesy of  the  newcomer.  Nothing  ruffled  him,  nothing 
caused  him  to  forget  his  good  manners.  They  really 
seemed  to  be  a  part  of  him.  Sometimes  the  Judge 
felt  a  vague  uneasiness  that  all  this  politeness  hid 
something  that  ought  to  have  been  revealed — that 
the  boy  was  too  agreeable  to  be  genuine.  He  was 
pretty  sure  that  Titus  agreed  with  him  in  this,  al- 
though he  had  never  heard  him  discuss  his  new 
friend  with  anyone. 

"Titus,"  he  said  one  day  when  Dallas  happened 
to  be  away  with  Charlie  Brown,  "Dallas's  visit  is 
drawing  to  a  close.  I  hope  that  he  considers  it  a 
successful  one." 

Titus  gave  him  a  peculiar  look.  "I  think  he  does, 
sir." 

"The  servants  have  been  respectful  to  him,  I 
hope." 

"They've  got  to  be,"  said  Titus,  grimly;  "he  has 
a  way  with  him — " 

"What  kind  of  a  way?"  inquired  the  Judge. 

"Hard  inside  and  soft  out,"  replied  the  boy,  "and 
his  blood  is  blue.  Theirs  is  only  red." 

"Is  he  proud  of  his  culture?" 

"He's  got  a  pedigree,"  said  Titus,  gloomily,  "a 
pedigree  as  long  as  your  arm,  and  he  carries  it  in 
that  old  leather  bag.  It  takes  the  de  Warrens  away 
back  to  William  the  Conqueror." 


THE  ENGLISH  BOY  131 

"Why,  so  have  you  a  pedigree  for  that  matter," 
and  the  Judge  smiled. 

Titus  looked  up  quickly,  and  the  Judge  opened 
one  of  his  table  drawers.  "When  I  was  in  England 
last  I  went  to  a  heraldic  office.  I  knew  that  Sancroft 
was  an  old  English  name,  and  I  wished  authentic 
information  respecting  our  descent.  There  I  saw 
our  armorial  bearings  and  got  the  pedigree.  Here 
it  is." 

The  boy  eagerly  took  the  long  slip  of  paper. 

"Do  you  see,"  said  the  Judge,  "you  can  trace  your 
ancestry  back  to  a  viking  of  Norway." 

"Hooray!"  said  Titus,  suddenly  brandishing  the 
paper  as  if  it  were  a  weapon,  "farther  back  than  his. 
May  I  show  this  to  Dallas." 

"Certainly." 

The  boy  stopped  on  his  way  out  of  the  room  and 
said  in  an  injured  voice,  "Why  didn't  you  show  me 
this  before,  sir." 

"I  didn't  know  that  you  would  be  interested,"  said 
the  Judge,  in  much  amusement.  "We  pay,  or  have 
paid,  so  little  attention  to  such  matters  in  America. 
However,  you  are  typical.  The  younger  genera- 
tion is  thinking  more  about  ancestral  descent  than 
ever  the  older  ones  have  thought." 

Titus  ran  away,  and  the  Judge  gazed  thoughtfully 
out  of  the  window.  Sukey  was  on  the  balcony  nod- 
ding and  bowing  very  energetically  at  a  number  of 
common  street  pigeons  who  were  very  anxious  to 
perch  beside  her. 

Higby  had  put  her  bath  out  in  the  sun,  and  it 
looked  very  attractive  to  them,  but  she  was  deter- 
mined that  they  should  not  bathe  in  her  china  bowl. 


132  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

One  male  pigeon  lighted  on  the  railing,  and,  strut- 
ting and  talking  to  the  princess,  at  last  persuaded 
himself  that  she  was  favorably  inclined  toward  him. 
He  flew  boldly  on  the  edge  of  the  dish.  Whereupon 
Sukey  ran  forward,  seized  him  by  the  short,  soft 
feathers  of  the  neck,  and  in  a  most  unprincesslike 
rage  shook  him  and  dragged  him  about,  until  at 
last  he  was  glad  to  get  away  from  her. 

The  Judge  smiled  and  stepped  out  on  the  balcony. 

He  looked  down  on  a  calm,  homelike  scene.  All 
about  him  were  handsome  houses  standing  in  their 
own  grounds.  The  snow  lay  thickly  over  every- 
thing now,  even  the  trees  were  laden  with  it,  but 
the  winter  scene  had  a  beauty  of  its  own.  The  day 
was  not  cold;  it  was  barely  freezing.  Roblee  was 
sweeping  the  concrete  in  front  of  the  stable  in  his 
shirt  sleeves.  Two  of  the  maids  were  brushing  a 
rug  at  the  back  door,  and  Mrs.  Blodgett  was  stand- 
ing in  the  sunshine  watching  them,  with  nothing 
but  an  apron  thrown  over  her  head. 

Presently  Dallas  came  through  the  stable  and 
down  the  walk  to  the  house.  The  Judge  noticed 
what  a  kind  smile  he  threw  each  of  the  servants  as 
he  passed  them  and  how  respectfully  they  eyed  him. 

He  waited  till  he  heard  the  lad  coming  up  the 
stairs  and  through  the  hall  outside  his  study,  then 
he  stepped  out  to  meet  him. 

"How  well  the  boy  looked !  His  new  clothes  had 
come  the  day  before.  In  deference  to  his  wishes, 
the  Judge  had  ordered  black  for  him.  Dallas  had 
been  very  much  touched — indeed,  he  had  almost 
broken  down — and  he  had  confided  the  information 
to  the  Judge  that  his  inability  to  put  on  mourning 


THE  ENGLISH  BOY  133 

for  his  beloved  father  had  been  a  great  grief  to 
him. 

"Dallas,"  said  the  Judge,  kindly,  "Mr.  Folsom 
expects  you  to-morrow  evening.  You  must  take  the 
early  morning  train  from  here." 

A  quick,  heavy  shadow  passed  over  the  boy's  face, 
but  he  said,  composedly,  "Very  well,  sir.  I  shall  be 
ready."  Then  he  passed  on  to  his  room  upstairs. 

With  a  strange  sinking  of  the  heart  the  Judge 
paced  slowly  up  and  down  the  hall.  He  was  sorry 
to  send  the  lad  away,  very  sorry  indeed,  for  he 
feared  that  he  did  not  want  to  go. 

Presently  he  paused  in  his  walk  and  went  to  the 
big  hall  window  overlooking  the  street.  Where 
was  Bethany?  The  mild  afternoon  was  drawing 
to  a  close.  It  would  soon  be  dark ;  she  ought  to  be 
in.  Just  after  dinner  she  had  gone  for  a  drive  with 
him,  then  had  asked  permission  to  take  some  flowers 
to  a  sick  child  a  few  doors  away,  but  she  should 
have  returned  by  this  time.  Ah!  there  she  was, 
crossing  the  street.  But  what  was  the  child  doing? 

The  Judge's  eyes  were  affectionately  fastened  on 
the  little  white-fur  figure  coming  toward  the  house. 
In  the  middle  of  the  snowy  avenue  she  had  paused. 
A  coal  cart,  lately  passing,  had  shaken  off  some 
black  lumps  on  the  street.  Bethany  was  surveying 
these  lumps  with  interest.  "Now,  what  has  she 
got  in  her  little  head?"  thought  the  Judge  with 
amusement. 

Suddenly  the  child  bent  over.  She  carefully  set 
down  the  little  pink  beribboned  basket  in  which  she 
had  carried  the  flowers  to  the  sick  playmate,  drew 
a  tiny  handkerchief  from  her  pocket,  and  spreading 


134  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

it  in  the  basket  she  took  off  her  gloves  and  was  care- 
fully lifting  the  lumps  of  coal  one  by  one,  when  she 
had  two  interruptions.  The  first  came  from  two 
ladies,  neighbors,  who  were  going  to  their  homes 
near  by.  The  Judge  saw  them  stop  and  speak  to 
Bethany,  then  he  opened  the  window. 

In  unconcealed  amusement  they  were  asking  her 
what  she  was  going  to  do  with  the  coal. 

She  seemed  to  be  shyly  evading  their  questions, 
and  as  they  passed  on  the  Judge  heard  one  of  them 
say,  in  a  clear  voice,  "How  curious  it  is  that  a  black, 
dirty  thing  like  coal  should  have  such  a  fascination 
for  the  average  child!" 

Bethany's  second  interruption  was  not  so  easily 
put  off.  Mrs.  Blodgett,  whose  keen  eyes  surveyed 
not  only  the  interior  of  the  Judge's  mansion  but  also 
its  exterior  and  the  avenue  on  which  it  was  situated, 
had  espied  the  stray  lamb,  and  the  Judge  saw  her 
fat  figure  descending  the  steps  with  considerable 
agility  and  pouncing  upon  Bethany. 

"Here,  dear  child,"  she  said,  "come  into  the  house 
this  minute." 

Bethany  protested  slightly,  but  Mrs.  Blodgett 
calmly  seized  the  basket,  turned  it  upside  down,  took 
her  by  the  hand,  and  led  her  into  the  house. 

Just  before  they  arrived  outside  his  study  the 
Judge  closed  the  window  and  went  inside  beside  his 
fire. 

"Sir,"  said  Mrs.  Blodgett,  knocking  on  the  half- 
open  door,  "can  you  speak  to  this  little  girl?" 

"Come  in,"  he  said,  and  Mrs.  Blodgett  walked  in, 
still  holding  Bethany,  who  looked  disturbed  and  a 
little  rebellious. 


THE  ENGLISH  BOY  135 

"Now,  sir,"  said  Mrs.  Blodgett,  decidedly,  "I 
wish  you  would  speak  to  this  little  girl,  for  she  don't 
mind  me.  I'm  tellin'  her  all  the  time  that,  though 
you  don't  like  wastefulness,  yet  meanness  is  hateful 
to  you,  and  she  do  do  the  strangest  things.  She  picks 
up  coal  and  little  bits  of  sticks  for  the  fire,  an'  she 
goes  round  an'  smells  the  soap — " 

"Smells  the  soap?"  repeated  the  Judge,  in  bewil- 
derment. 

"Yes,  sir;  I  caught  her  the  other  day.  She  were 
in  your  room.  You  know,  sir,  you  has  in  your  bath- 
room sandalwood  soap.  Master  Titus,  he  have  pure 
Castile;  the  strange  boy  he  have  common  toilet;  in 
the  kitchen  we  have  Hittaker's." 

"Ah !  Hittaker's,"  interposed  the  Judge,  "is  that 
a  good  soap  ?" 

"Fine,  sir,  for  a  cheap  soap.  But  what  I  was 
goin'  to  say  is  this :  This  here  little  girl  loves  good 
soap,  and,  young  as  she  be,  she  knows  the  difference. 
She  rolled  your  cake  in  these  weeny  hands,  she  put 
it  to  that  little  nose,  she  wanted  it  herself,  but  what 
do  she  do?  She  slips  into  your  dish  the  little  bit 
of  sandalwood  that  I'd  given  her,  she  goes  to  the 
upper  hall  closet  an'  takes  a  cake  of  Hittaker  to  her 
own  room." 

"Well!"  observed  the  Judge,  patiently.  He  did 
not  understand  what  all  this  talk  about  coal,  and 
sticks,  and  soap  meant,  and  he  did  not  like  to  see 
the  sensitive  child  stand  there  looking  like  a  culprit. 

"Sir,"  said  Mrs.  Blodgett,  solemnly,  "she  be 
a-tryin'  to  save." 

The  Judge  started.  This  threw  a  new  light  on  the 
subject. 


136  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"Yes,"  Mrs.  Blodgett  continued,  "I  know  that  this 
little  girl  has  been  a  poor  little  girl,  but  her  mother 
were  a  lady.  I  can  tell  by  her  ways,  an'  I'm  tired 
of  tellin'  her  that  you  don't  want  her  to  be  a  poor 
little  girl  no  longer,  a  pickin',  tradin',  savin'  little 
girl.  You  does  the  business.  She  has  only  to  be 
good  an'  not  wasteful,  but  also  not  beggarlike. 
What's  what  in  one  place  isn't  what's  what  in  an- 
other. She  have  mentioned  River  Street.  Now, 
River  Street  aint  Grand  Avenue." 

"Very  well,  Mrs.  Blodgett,"  said  the  Judge,  with 
a  reassuring  nod,  "I  will  talk  to  her,"  and  in  great 
relief  the  fat  woman  surrendered  the  culprit  to  him 
and  went  away. 

After  the  housekeeper's  departure  Bethany  ad- 
vanced somewhat  timidly  to  the  fire,  and,  taking  off 
her  cap,  coat,  and  gloves,  placed  them  in  a  neat  little 
heap  on  a  chair.  Then  she  looked  up  apprehensively 
at  the  Judge. 

"You're  not  angry  with  Bethany,  are  you,  Daddy 
Grandpa  ?" 

"No,"  he  said,  "I'm  not  angry." 

"We  used  to  do  it  at  Mrs.  Tingsby's,"  she  said, 
spreading  her  little  hands  to  the  blaze.  "Annie,  and 
Rodd,  and  Goldie,  and  I  used  to  take  little  pails 
and  go  round  the  streets ;  on  barge  days  we  got  lots." 

"What  do  you  mean  by  barge  days,"  asked  the 
Judge. 

"Days  when  the  barges  came  up  the  river  with 
coal.  Then  the  trucks  took  it  round  the  city.  We 
followed  the  trucks.  We  could  keep  the  kitchen  fire 
going  for  days.  Lots  of  children  did  it,  Daddy 
Grandpa." 


THE  ENGLISH  BOY  137 

The  Judge  was  ominously  silent,  and  Bethany 
went  on  in  a  depreciatory  way.  "Mrs.  Tingsby  was 
very  good  to  me.  When  my  mamma  died  she  said, 
'You  must  do  all  you  can  to  help  her,  but  do  not 
go  round  to  the  hotels  with  her.' ' 

"To  the  hotels  ?"  repeated  the  Judge. 

"Yes,  sir;  to  the  back  doors.  They  give  poor 
people  leavings  from  plates.  Mrs.  Tingsby  used  to 
get  quite  nice  things  sometimes,  such  as  turkey 
slices,  broken  cake,  perhaps  even  whole  mutton 
chops,  fish  heads  and  tails,  cut  apples,  decayed  ba- 
nanas, melted  ice  cream,  lumps  of  pudding — " 

"Stop !"  implored  the  Judge. 

Bethany  looked  up  at  him  quietly,  for  she  had 
been  gazing  at  the  fire  and  speaking  in  a  dreamy 
fashion. 

"They  were  very  good,  sir.  Once  I  found  a  little 
turnover  in  a  pail  Mrs.  Tingsby  brought  home — 
the  sweetest  little  turnover  I  ever  ate.  There  were 
lots  of  surprises.  You  know  Jimmy  Fox,  the  dog 
man,  don't  you  ?" 

"No,  I  don't  know  him." 

"Well,  he  has  lots  of  dogs,  and  he  lives  out  the 
back  road  near  the  iron  works.  Jimmy  always  car- 
ried a  bag ;  Mrs.  Tingsby,  she  took  a  pail.  One  night 
Jimmy  got  a  whole  rabbit.  He  was  so  pleased ;  but 
Mrs.  Tingsby  said  there  must  have  been  something 
the  matter  with  that  rabbit,  or  they  wouldn't  have 
given  him  a  whole  one.  However,  Jimmy  didn't 
die,  and  he  ate  it.  She  saw  him." 

The  Judge  tried  to  smile,  but  he  could  not. 
He  did  not  find  Bethany's  reminiscences  at  all 
amusing. 


138  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"Child,"  he  said,  suddenly,  "promise  me  that  you 
won't  pick  up  any  more  coal." 

Bethany  looked  at  him  in  surprise.  "Why,  course 
not,  Daddy  Grandpa,  if  you  don't  want  me  to." 

"And  take  the  soap  Mrs.  Blodgett  gives  you; 
don't  use  Hittaker's." 

"Very  well,  Daddy  Grandpa,"  she  replied,  quietly. 
"Has  Bethany  been  a  bad  girl  ?" 

"No,  child,  no ;  but  it  is  not  necessary  for  you  to 
be  so  economical." 

"I  don't  know  what  that  means." 

"It  means  saving.  Do  you  think  that  Titus  ought 
to  go  and  pick  up  sticks  for  the  fire?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Why  not?" 

"Because  he  isn't  a  little  poor  boy.  He  is  your 
very  own  child." 

"Yes,  he  is  my  very  own  grandson,  and  you  are 
my  very  own  granddaughter." 

She  took  a  quick  step  toward  him,  and  in  her 
excitement  made  one  of  her  rare  slips  in  speaking. 
"But  he  was  borned  that  way." 

"And  you  are  made  that  way,"  said  the  Judge, 
firmly.  "I  make  you  my  little  granddaughter.  Un- 
less the  Lord  takes  my  money  away  from  me,  you 
will  never  have  to  pick  up  coal  again." 

"I  didn't  think  you  would  send  me  back  to  River 
Street,  Daddy  Grandpa,"  she  said,  earnestly. 

The  Judge  was  silent,  not  knowing  what  turn  her 
thoughts  would  take. 

"I  thought  I  was  your  little  girl,"  she  went  on, 
earnestly,  "your  little  poor  girl.  I  picked  up  sticks 
and  coal  to  help  you.  It  is  a  good  deal  for  you  to 


THE  ENGLISH  BOY  139 

take  a  little  poor  girl  when  you  have  a  rich  boy  to 
keep  up." 

"Child,"  said  the  Judge,  firmly,  "I  don't  wish  any 
distinction  to  be  made.  You  and  Titus  are  on  the 
same  footing." 

Bethany  made  a  little  obstinate  movement  of  her 
neck.  "My  mamma  told  me  all  about  it,  sir.  She 
said,  'Bethany,  when  I  am  dead,  remember  a 
'dopted  child  isn't  like  a  real  child.  She  must  be 
sweet,  and  good,  because  people  are  watching  her. 
She  must  save  everything,  even  a  pin.  She  must  say 
every  day,  "Lord,  keep  me  gentle  like  a  lamb." 

The  Judge,  somewhat  disconcerted,  said  hastily, 
"I  wish  your  mother  had  not  told  you  that." 

Bethany  shook  her  head  patiently.  "You  are  very 
kind,  sir,  but  you  can't  change  me — I'm  only 
'dopted.  I'm  not  borned  your  really  grandchild." 

Her  companion  was  silent  for  a  few  minutes, 
musing  on  the  enormous  power  of  early  impressions 
and  maternal  influence.  At  last  he  said,  somewhat 
impatiently,  "Then  I  suppose  that  as  I  am  not  your 
real  grandfather  you  do  not  care  much  for  me." 

Bethany  had  begun  to  carefully  stack  her  little 
arms  with  her  wraps  to  take  upstairs,  but  she  sud- 
denly laid  them  down  again. 

"Sir,"  she  said,  facing  him  once  more,  "last  night 
I  said  to  Ellen  and  Susie,  said  I,  'Girls,  you  must 
have  been  dreadful  fond  of  your  dear  grandpa,  who 
was  your  real  grandpa,  when  I  am  only  his  play 
grandchild,  and  I  just  love  him — just  love  him/ ' 
she  repeated,  earnestly. 

The  Judge  looked  down  at  the  little  face  glowing 
in  the  firelight. 


140  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"You  are  a  good  child,"  he  said,  softly,  and  he 
bent  over  and  kissed  her  forehead;  "whatever  you 
say,  you  are  my  own  dear  granddaughter  after  this." 

She  smiled  happily,  then  bent  in  a  reproving  way 
over  the  pigeon,  who  had  come  in  and  was  pecking 
at  one  of  her  gloves  that  had  fallen  on  the  hearth- 
rug. 

"Little  saint,  you  must  not  soil  Bethany's  glove. 
You  are  a  rich  bird,  and  do  not  understand  that 
poor  little  girls  have  to  be  careful  of  their  clothes." 

Sukey  seized  the  glove  and  did  her  best  to  toss 
it  into  the  ashes. 

Bethany  patiently  took  it  from  her,  then  she 
looked  round.  "Daddy  Grandpa,  where  is  Sukey's 
pincushion  ?  She  wants  something  to  play  with." 

The  Judge  took  the  cushion  from  a  drawer  and 
put  it  on  the  hearthrug,  and  the  pigeon,  trotting 
over  to  it,  began  to  pull  out  the  large-headed  pins 
and  throw  them  about  the  carpet. 

"I'll  pick  them  up,"  said  Bethany,  "just  as  soon 
as  I  put  my  things  away,"  and  she  again  filled  her 
arms  with  her  wraps,  the  Judge  agreeably  placing 
the  cap  on  the  top  of  the  pile. 

"Good-bye,"  she  said,  sweetly,  "I'll  soon  be  back." 
Then  she  bent  forward  and  looked  mysteriously  out 
into  the  hall,  which  Higby,  strange  to  say,  had  not 
yet  lighted. 

"What  do  you  see  ?"  asked  the  Judge. 

"The  yellow,  spotted  dog,"  she  replied,  in  a  whis- 
per. "I  just  caught  one  little  glimpse  of  his  tail. 
He's  running  upstairs.  Maybe  I'll  find  him  under 
my  bed." 

The  Judge  watched  her  toiling  up  the  staircase. 


THE  ENGLISH  BOY  141 

What  a  strange  child !  He  had  never  heard  her  ex- 
press any  fear  of  the  darkness.  Indeed,  it  was  so 
peopled  with  ghosts  and  fancies  that  he  doubted  if 
it  had  any  terrors  for  her.  It  was  rather  rilled  with 
companionship.  He  often  heard  her  talking  to  Ellen 
and  Susie,  to  her  mother  and  the  yellow,  spotted 
dog.  Then  he  must  also  take  into  consideration 
that  she  was  the  child  of  poverty.  Children  nursed 
in  the  lap  of  luxury  can  afford  to  have  nerves.  The 
children  of  the  poor  must  steel  themselves  to  priva- 
tions. Bethany  had  never  been  accustomed  to 
lighted  halls  till  she  came  here. 

Dear  little  child !  What  kind  of  a  woman  would 
she  make ;  and  as  the  Judge  went  back  into  his  study 
he  put  up  a  fervent  prayer,  "O!  Lord,  let  me  live 
till  I  see  what  is  to  become  of  my  own  child  and  the 
child  of  my  adoption." 


CHAPTER  XI 
DECEIT  AND  FORGIVENESS 

EVERY  morning  before  breakfast  Titus  went  out 
to  see  his  pigeons.  He  really  had  not  time  to  do 
much  more  than  look  at  them,  for  he  was  not  an 
early  riser.  His  real  work  in  taking  care  of  them 
was  accomplished  in  the  afternoon,  at  the  close  of 
school. 

Bethany  had  found  out  about  this  habit  of  his  of 
visiting  the  pigeon  loft,  and  when  he  left  his  room 
in  the  morning  he  always  found  her  loitering  out- 
side, waiting  for  an  invitation  to  visit  the  "dear 
birds." 

"Come  on,"  Titus  always  said,  and  taking  her 
hand  he  would  run  out  to  the  stable. 

The  pigeons  knew  her  as  well  as  they  knew  him, 
and  he  often  allowed  her  to  give  them  a  few  hand- 
fuls  of  hemp  seed.  This  seed,  being  of  an  oily  na- 
ture, was  not  fed  continuously  to  them,  but  they 
dearly  loved  it,  and  when  Bethany  stretched  out  her 
palms  the  pigeons  flocked  round  her. 

She  shivered  with  delight  when  she  felt  their  soft 
necks  against  her  fingers,  and  she  never  laughed 
lest  she  should  frighten  them,  although  Titus,  stand- 
ing in  the  background,  was  often  convulsed  with 
amusement. 

The  pigeons,  in  their  anxiety  to  get  the  seed, 
would  crowd  each  other.  Then  there  would  be 


DECEIT  AND  FORGIVENESS  143 

fights.  The  combatants,  withdrawing  from  the 
others,  would  seize  each  other  by  the  heads  and  drag 
each  other  about,  finally  coming  back  to  find  all  the 
seeds  gone.  Their  rueful  faces  when  they  contem- 
plated Bethany's  empty  palms  were  very  amusing, 
and  with  a  foolish  air  they  always  listened  to  the 
little  girl's  gentle  reproaches  on  the  subject  of  quar- 
reling. 

Sometimes  they  had  dances.  That  was  their 
nearest  approach  to  play.  If  they  were  particularly 
hungry  when  they  saw  Bethany  coming  with  the 
hemp  seed,  they  would  all  flap  their  wings  and  dance 
about  her,  often  lifting  themselves  off  their  feet  and 
turning  round  and  round. 

Since  Dallas  had  come  to  Riverport  he,  too,  had 
formed  the  habit  of  going  out  to  see  the  pigeons, 
but  on  the  morning  of  the  day  on  which  he  was  to 
leave,  Titus  and  Bethany  did  not  find  him  waiting 
for  them. 

"I-I-I  don't  expect  him,"  said  Titus.  "I  hope— 
I  mean,  I  think — he's  packing.  His  train  leaves  in 
an  hour  and  a  half.  Come  on  in,  Bethany.  I'll 
run  up  and  see  if  I  can't  help  him." 

Bethany  trotted  into  the  house  and  went  into  the 
dining  room.  The  Judge  was  just  entering  it,  and 
presently  the  servants  filed  in  for  prayers. 

After  prayers  came  breakfast,  and  then  as  the 
Judge  and  Bethany  sat  at  the  table  Titus  entered 
with  a  slow  step  and  a  rueful  face. 

"Dallas  is  ill,  grandfather,"  he  said,  slowly. 

The  Judge  looked  up.  "What  is  the  matter  with 
him?" 

"I  don't  know,  sir,"  said  Titus,  in  a  peculiar  man- 


144  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

ner.  "His  face  is  red,  and  he  keeps  his  head  under 
the  bedclothes." 

"He  was  quite  well  last  evening,"  said  the  Judge, 
and  his  mind  ran  back  to  the  night  before,  when,  to 
his  great  relief,  the  English  boy  had  been  cheerful 
and  entertaining,  instead  of  moping,  as  he  had 
feared  he  would  do  when  he  was  informed  that  he 
must  go  back  to  New  York. 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Titus,  "he  played  those  games  fast 
enough." 

"Perhaps  he  has  taken  cold,"  said  the  Judge;  "I 
will  go  up  and  see,"  and,  throwing  his  napkin  on 
the  table,  he  went  slowly  upstairs. 

Dallas  was  red  and  feverish,  and  his  eyes  were 
bright. 

"Have  you  a  headache?"  asked  the  Judge. 

"A  splitting  one,"  replied  the  boy. 

"And  a  pain  in  your  back  ?" 

"Fearful  pain,"  and  the  boy  groaned. 

"I  will  send  for  a  doctor,"  said  the  Judge.  "Will 
you  eat  anything?" 

"O,  no,  no;  thank  you,"  and  he  shook  his 
head. 

The  Judge  went  downstairs  and  telephoned  to  his 
physician.  Then  he  went  back  to  the  dining  room 
and  finished  his  breakfast. 

As  he  left  the  dining  room  the  doctor  arrived. 
Not  his  own  family  physician,  to  the  Judge's  dis- 
appointment, but  his  assistant. 

"I  wished  to  see  Dr.  Moberly,"  he  said  to  the 
young  man,  who  pleasantly  informed  him  that  Dr. 
Moberly  was  in  New  York. 

The  Judge  said  nothing,  but  on  accompanying 


DECEIT  AND  FORGIVENESS  145 

him  to  the  English  boy's  room  he  saw  that  the  young 
man  was  considerably  puzzled  by  the  case. 

One  minute  he  said  he  thought  the  lad  was  sick- 
ening for  measles,  then  he  inclined  to  scarlet  fever, 
then  to  a  feverish  cold. 

The  Judge  kindly  but  firmly  told  him  that  he 
would  not  require  him  to  prescribe  for  the  case,  and, 
bowing  him  out,  he  again  went  to  his  telephone. 

He  would  request  the  superintendent  of  the  City 
Hospital  to  call.  He  had  been  greatly  impressed 
by  his  knowledge  of  boys. 

An  hour  later  Dr.  Reynald  drove  up. 

"Against  my  rules,  you  know,"  he  said,  shaking 
his  head  at  the  Judge;  "no  private  practice,  but  I 
couldn't  refuse  you.  What  do  you  want?" 

The  Judge  told  him.  "I  have  an  English  boy 
staying  with  me.  He  was  to  have  gone  to  New 
York  this  morning.  He  is  ill  and  can't  go;  won't 
eat,  and  I  am  anxious  about  him." 

"Take  me  to  him,"  said  Dr.  Reynald. 

They  went  upstairs  together,  and  Dr.  Reynald, 
after  giving  a  sharp  glance  round  his  patient's  room, 
went  to  the  windows  and  pulled  back  the  curtains. 
Then  he  sat  down  by  the  bed  and  fixed  his  bright, 
gray  eyes  on  the  boy. 

Dallas  became  a  more  furious  red  than  ever  under 
his  glance,  and  when  the  doctor  said,  "Let  me  feel 
your  pulse,"  he  half  hesitated. 

Dr.  Reynald,  however,  gave  a  peremptory  tap  on 
the  bedclothes,  and  the  boy  put  out  his  hand. 

It  was  only  detained  a  short  time.  The  doctor 
bent  over  him,  passed  a  hand  over  his  forehead, 
whispered  a  question,  to  which  the  boy  gave  a  re- 


146  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

luctant  reply,  then,  getting  up,  he  nodded  to  the 
Judge  and  went  out  of  the  room,  followed  by  an 
ashamed,  despairing  glance  from  his  patient. 

The  Judge  took  him  in  his  study  and  shut  the 
door.  "Nothing  dangerous,  I  hope;  not  smallpox, 
for  example." 

"Worse  than  that,"  replied  Dr.  Reynald,  shortly. 

"Worse?    What  can  it  be?" 

"A  touch  of  moral  leprosy — the  boy  is  sham- 
ming." 

"Shamming!"  exclaimed  the  Judge. 

"Yes.  I  don't  know  the  reason ;  perhaps  you  can 
tell  me." 

"He  looks  sick,"  said  the  Judge,  uneasily.  "I 
don't  want  to  distrust  your  word,  but  is  it  possible 
that  you  are  mistaken?" 

"Not  possible.  We  sometimes  have  such  cases 
at  the  hospital.  Then  I  made  him  confess  him- 
self that  he  was.  Tell  me  something  about  this 
boy." 

The  Judge  immediately  told  him  all  that  he  knew, 
and  he  had  only  uttered  a  few  sentences  when  he  be- 
came convinced  that  Dr.  Reynald  was  right. 

"It's  the  old,  old  story,"  he  said,  when  he  had 
finished  what  he  knew  of  Dallas's  antecedents.  "I 
ought  to  know  it  better  than  most  people.  It  is 
easier  to  do  wrong  than  to  do  right." 

Dr.  Reynald  smiled.  "Yes,  you  ought  to  know; 
and  yet  I  envy  you  your  beautiful  faith  in  human 
nature  which  you  have  kept,  in  spite  of  your  pro- 
fession." 

"God  knows  I  have  tried  to  hold  on  to  it,"  said 
the  Judge,  earnestly.  "I  would  be  willing  to  lie 


DECEIT  AND  FORGIVENESS  147 

down  and  die  if  for  a  moment  I  gave  up  my  belief 
that  there  is  good  in  every  human  heart." 

"This  is  not  a  heinous  case,"  said  Dr.  Reynald. 
"In  fact,  it  is  rather  flattering.  That  storm-tossed 
lad  finds  this  a  quiet  haven.  He  dreads  to  leave  it." 

"But  his  duplicity,"  said  the  Judge.  "I  must  be 
severe  with  him  for  that.  Now,  evidently  last  even- 
ing when  I  told  him  he  must  leave  he  was  much 
shocked.  Yet  he  hid  his  real  feelings." 

"He  was  thinking  out  a  plan,"  said  Dr.  Reynald. 
"He  is  a  skillful  diplomat.  What  are  you  going  to 
do  with  him?" 

"Tell  him  to  get  up  and  take  the  train  for  New 
York,"  said  the  Judge,  firmly. 

"And  let  him  come  back  again  next  week." 

The  Judge  smiled. 

"Come,  now,"  said  Dr.  Reynald,  "confess  that 
you  are  slightly  pleased — an  old  fellow  like  you  find- 
ing a  slip  of  young  life  clinging  to  you." 

The  Judge  laughed  outright.  "Ah!  doctor,  it  is 
my  environment  that  the  boy  likes.  His  poor  young 
soul  craves  comfort." 

"Not  altogether,"  and  Dr.  Reynald  shook  his  head 
obstinately.  "I've  seen  luxurious  interiors  where  a 
boy  slip  would  not  want  to  take  root.  There's  some- 
thing about  you,  Judge,  attractive  to  young  life. 
You  ought  to  have  a  dozen  youngsters." 

His  friend  stretched  out  his  hands.  "Heaven 
forbid!  but  I  will  confess  it  caused  me  a  pang  to 
send  this  boy  back  to  the  New  York  whirlpool.  Per- 
haps I  am  not  sorry  to  shelter  him  for  a  time. 
Something  else  may  turn  up  for  him.  Would  you 
like  him?" 


148  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"No,  thank  you,"  said  Dr.  Reynald,  politely.  "A 
hospital  home  and  an  old  bachelor  father  would  be 
cold  comforts  for  your  boy.  No,  keep  him,  but  try 
to  break  him  of  that  iniquitous  habit  of  shamming." 

"Do  you  suppose  he  has  been  deceiving  in  other 
things?"  asked  the  Judge,  anxiously. 

"You  said  he  had  eaten  no  breakfast?" 

"Yes,  I  did.    He  has  eaten  nothing  this  morning." 

"He  has  been  cramming  himself  with  soda  crack- 
ers. I  smelt  them  on  his  breath." 

"But  I  cannot  bring  up  such  a  boy  as  this  with 
Titus,"  remarked  the  Judge,  indignantly. 

"Do  you  think  he  can  deceive  your  grandson 
as  easily  as  he  deceives  you?"  asked  the  doctor, 
sharply.  "Ah !  the  finesse  of  youth — nothing  equals 
it  but  the  equal  understanding  of  youth." 

The  Judge  reflected  for  a  minute.  Titus's  man- 
ner had  been  very  peculiar  when  he  announced 
Dallas's  illness.  He  had  also  gone  off  to  school 
without  showing  any  particular  concern  about  the 
English  boy. 

"I  believe  Titus  knew,"  exclaimed  the  Judge. 

"I  believe  he  did,"  said  Dr.  Reynald,  coolly, 
"from  what  I  know  of  Titus.  Don't  distress  your- 
self about  a  little  lying.  Children  all  take  to  it  as 
ducks  to  water.  The  main  thing  is  to  get  them  out 
of  it,  before  they  get  their  feathers  wet — and  it  takes 
a  lot  of  soaking  to  wet  them." 

"Titus  is  no  story-teller,"  said  the  Judge,  thought- 
fully, "though  he  does  other  provoking  things." 

"How  old  is  he?" 

"Fourteen." 

"Then  if  he  has  not  acquired  the  habit  of  lying 


DECEIT  AND  FORGIVENESS  149 

he  won't  get  it  now.  Don't  be  afraid  of  the  English 
boy,  Judge.  Give  him  a  chance.  It's  an  awful 
world  for  motherless  and  fatherless  lads.  I  see  them 
on  the  rocks  every  day." 

"But  I  ought  to  send  him  back  to  New  York," 
said  the  Judge,  weakly. 

"No  such  thing.  Go  upstairs,  give  him  a  tremen- 
dous scolding,  then  forgive  him.  You're  not  bound 
to  keep  him  if  he  proves  outrageous.  But  he  won't. 
He's  a  delicate  slip;  he's  looking  for  some  soft 
corner  to  creep  into  like  a  sick  cat  or  dog.  Put 
yourself  in  his  place,  Judge;  put  yourself  in  his 
place." 

The  Judge  did,  and  he  shivered.  "I  will  let  him 
stay,"  he  said,  suddenly,  "on  your  recommendation, 
but  he  must  be  talked  to." 

"Good-bye,"  said  Dr.  Reynald,  with  a  mischiev- 
ous face,  "good-bye.  Let  me  know  when  you  have 
a  serious  case  again,"  and  he  hurried  out  into  the 
hall  and  downstairs. 

The  Judge  went  thoughtfully  up  to  Dallas's  bed- 
room. 

The  boy  was  half  dressed,  and  when  his  friend 
and  protector  came  into  the  room  he  sank  on  the 
bed  in  an  attitude  of  the  deepest  dejection. 

From  the  depths  of  his  good,  kind  heart  the  man 
was  glad  to  see  that  the  boy  was  desperately 
ashamed  of  himself. 

"Dallas,"  he  said,  kindly,  "what  have  you  to  say 
for  yourself?" 

"Nothing,  sir,  nothing,"  said  the  lad,  turning  his 
face  away. 

"You  have  deceived  me,"  said  the  Judge,  softly. 


150  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"Yes,  I  have  deceived  you,"  said  the  boy,  in  a 
dull  voice. 

"You  feel  badly  about  it?" 

"I  don't  know,"  said  Dallas,  wearily.  "I  suppose 
I  do.  I  am  so  tired,  sir.  I  have  heard  my  father 
speak  of  hunting  in  England.  The  fox  turns  and 
twists ;  he  does  not  know  where  to  go." 

The  boy's  attitude  was  so  listless,  his  manner  so 
utterly  dejected,  that  the  Judge's  heart  was  touched 
with  pity.  No  frantic  protestations  of  regret,  no 
tears  would  have  appealed  to  him  as  did  this  simple 
hopelessness.  The  boy  was  done  with  stratagems. 

"Dallas,"  he  said,  gently,  "do  you  like  my  grand- 
son?" 

"Pretty  well,  sir." 

"You  have  pretended  to  like  him  better  than  you 
do?" 

"Yes,  I  have." 

"You  have  been  making  yourself  agreeable,  hop- 
ing that  I  would  change  my  mind  about  adopting 
you?" 

"Yes,  I  have,"  he  replied,  bitterly. 

"And  when  you  found  you  had  to  go  back  to  New 
York,  what  did  you  plan  to  do  ?" 

"I  didn't  plan  to  do  anything,"  said  the  boy,  in 
a  low,  fierce  tone.  "What  could  I  do  ?  Your  friend, 
the  clergyman,  is  as  poor  as  a  church  mouse;  he 
couldn't  keep  me.  I'd  have  to  work  in  some  low, 
dirty  place.  O,  Lord !  I  wish  I  had  strength  enough 
of  mind  to  poison  myself." 

"Dallas,"  said  the  Judge,  "are  you  a  lazy  boy?" 

"Is  it  laziness  to  hate  smelling,  poverty-stricken 
people  and  their  queer  ways,  to  dread  to  rub  elbows 


DECEIT  AND  FORGIVENESS  151 

all  the  time  with  men  and  boys  that  talk  horrid, 
vulgar  talk,  and  that  don't  understand  you?"  asked 
the  boy,  almost  rudely. 

"I  asked  you  whether  you  disliked  work,"  said 
the  Judge,  firmly. 

The  boy  stared  at  him.  "I  like  to  study,  to  handle 
nice,  clean  books  and  hear  nice,  clean  language ;  but 
what  does  it  matter  what  I  like  ?  You  have  washed 
your  hands  of  me,"  and,  dropping  his  head,  he  mis- 
erably toyed  with  an  open  penknife  that  he  held  in 
his  hand. 

The  knife  was  red  and  stained,  and  the  Judge 
eyed  it  suspiciously.  "Dallas,"  he  went  on,  decid- 
edly, "deceit  is  easier  to  some  natures  than  to  others. 
I  want  you  to  tell  me  in  just  how  many  ways  you 
have  tried  to  make  things  appear  other  than  they 
are  since  you  have  been  here." 

The  boy  got  up  in  a  tired  way,  sauntered  to  a 
closet,  and  opened  the  door.  "There!"  he  said, 
bringing  out  a  small  box  and  setting  it  down  on  the 
floor.  "I've  deceived  you  all  about  these  ever  since 
I  came,"  and  taking  a  little  key  from  his  pocket  he 
opened  the  padlock  on  the  box  and  threw  back  the 
perforated  lid. 

The  Judge  started.  There  on  a  perch  in  the  box 
sat  two  tiny  owls — the  softest,  grayest  little  owls 
he  had  ever  seen.  They  sat  close  to  each  other, 
seemingly  not  at  all  afraid,  but  fixing  their  large, 
beautiful  round  eyes  on  Dallas  they  uttered  a 
simultaneous  and  soft  "Too  whoo,  whoo,  whoo 
whoo!" 

"Well!"  exclaimed  the  Judge,  "well!" 

"They  are  California  screech  owls,"  said  the  boy, 


152  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

in  a  dull  voice;  "my  father's  pets.  He  loved  birds, 
and  bought  these  once  in  San  Francisco  when  he  was 
touring.  When  he  died  he  asked  me  to  take  care  of 
them,  and  I  have  done  so  for  his  sake,  though  I 
hate  them." 

"You  hate  them!"  said  the  Judge.  Was  it  pos- 
sible that  he  had  at  last  found  a  young  person  that 
did  not  like  birds  ? 

"Yes,  I  hate  them,"  said  the  boy,  energetically. 
"I  hate  all  birds.  I've  been  pretending  to  like 
pigeons  to  curry  favor  with  your  grandson.  It 
doesn't  matter  about  speaking  the  truth  now  that  I 
am  going  away." 

The  Judge  looked  from  the  bits  of  raw  meat  in 
the  box  to  Dallas's  red  penknife. 

"Where  do  you  get  food  for  them  ?" 

"I  buy  meat  or  beg  it ;  and,  in  fact,  all  the  family 
but  Titus  think  that  I'm  taking  a  raw-meat  cure. 
Titus  caught  on  to  me,  though  I  don't  know  whether 
he  understands  what  kind  of  creatures  I'm  feed- 
ing." 

"I  hope  you  don't  keep  them  in  that  little  box  at 
night?" 

"O,  no;  I  let  them  fly  about  my  room  at  night. 
They  sleep  all  day." 

The  Judge  put  on  his  eyeglasses  and  stared  at  the 
little  feathered  creatures,  who  were  sleepily  blinking 
their  eyes. 

"Would  they  fly  away  if  you  let  them  out?" 

"I  don't  think  so,  sir.  My  father  used  to  let  them 
out  at  night,  and  they  would  catch  sparrows  and 
bring  them  to  our  room  and  eat  them." 

"How  curious!"  remarked  the  Judge.     Then  he 


DECEIT  AND  FORGIVENESS  153 

went  on,  "We  have  no  cats  about  the  house.  Let 
them  have  their  liberty,  but  give  them  plenty  of 
meat.  We  have  not  too  many  sparrows  here." 

Dallas  looked  sharply  at  him,  but  the  Judge,  tak- 
ing no  notice  of  his  glance,  calmly  put  his  glasses 
in  their  case  and  returned  them  to  his  pocket.  Then 
he  said,  irrelevantly,  "Dallas,  are  you  wholly  Eng- 
lish?" 

"No,  sir;  only  on  my  father's  side.  My  mother 
was  a  Western  girl." 

"Has  she  any  relatives  living?" 

"Only  distant  ones,  and  all  poor  as  poverty." 

"How  long  has  your  father  been  dead?" 

"Three  months." 

"You  missed  him  when  he  died?" 

The  boy  gave  him  a  look,  such  a  look  of  utter, 
hopeless  grief,  of  unavailing,  stifled  grief,  that  the 
Judge's  kind  heart  ached  with  a  sudden  ache  of  pity 
and  comprehension. 

"Boy,"  he  said,  "you  want  a  new  father." 

"Ah !  that  is  something  I  shall  never  have,"  ex- 
claimed Dallas,  his  whole  soul  rising  in  a  protest 
of  misery  and  revolt. 

"Here  is  an  unworthy  substitute,"  said  the  Judge, 
quietly  tapping  his  breast.  "Stay  with  me,  Dallas; 
be  my  boy." 

The  lad  once  more  looked  at  him.  He  was  more 
demonstrative  than  Titus.  If  conditions  had  been 
a  little  different  he  would  have  thrown  himself  on 
the  neck  of  the  kind  man  before  him,  he  would  have 
sobbed  out  some  of  his  unhappiness  to  sympathetic 
ears.  But  the  Judge  was  a  comparative  stranger  to 
him,  and  he  was  so  miserable,  and  so  ashamed  of 


154  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

himself,  that  it  seemed  as  if  he  could  not  be  happy 
for  a  time  at  least. 

"Get  back  into  bed,"  said  the  Judge,  softly.  "You 
are  tired  and  worn  out  from  mental  stress  and 
worry.  Your  meals  will  be  served  here  to-day. 
To-morrow,  if  you  feel  like  it,  come  downstairs  and 
take  your  place  among  us.  Only  one  thing  I  ask 
of  you — be  honest  with  me,  Dallas.  Will  you,  my 
boy?" 

The  lad  turned  and  threw  himself  full  length  on 
the  bed.  His  whole  frame  was  shaking,  and  he 
could  not  utter  a  word. 

The  Judge  did  not  insist,  for  he  was  a  wise  man. 
Softly  closing  the  door,  and  gently  shaking  his  head, 
he  went  slowly  downstairs. 


CHAPTER  XII 
THE  YELLOW  SPOTTED  DOG 

"I  WONDER  what  Titus  will  say?"  muttered  the 
Judge  to  himself.  "I  wonder  what  Titus  will  say? 
Perhaps  I  should  have  waited  to  ask  him." 

"Titus,"  he  said,  when  his  grandson  returned 
home  from  school,  "what  do  you  think  of  the  Eng- 
lish boy?" 

Titus  grinned,  then  he  said,  "How  is  he?" 

"Did  you  think  he  was  very  ill?"  inquired  the 
Judge. 

"You're  going  to  keep  him,"  said  Titus,  bluntly. 
"I  knew  you  would.  I  knew  he  would  get  round 
you." 

"Do  you  like  him  ?"  asked  the  Judge,  anxiously. 

"Not  I,"  said  Titus,  contemptuously.  "I  think 
he's  a  great,  big  fraud." 

The  Judge  sighed.  Titus's  manner  was  cool,  but 
he  must  be  greatly  stirred  about  the  matter,  for  he 
was  not  stuttering  at  all,  and  at  each  reply  he  made 
to  his  grandfather  he  stepped  slightly  forward. 

Finding  himself  crowded  against  the  parlor  door, 
the  Judge  opened  it  and  went  in. 

"Grandson,"  he  said  to  Titus,  who  was  still  ad- 
vancing, "I  want  you  to  do  more  good  in  the  world 
than  I  have  done." 

"I'll  be  satisfied  to  do  half  as  much,"  replied  Titus, 
dryly. 


156  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"You  liked  the  boy  when  he  came/'  said  the 
Judge,  uneasily. 

"I've  never  liked  him  for  one  single  minute,"  said 
Titus,  striking  an  inlaid  table  with  his  fist.  "I've 
pretended  to  like  him." 

"So  you  pretend,  too  ?"  said  the  Judge. 

"If  I  didn't  pretend  a  bit,"  said  Titus,  energet- 
ically, "I'd  be  fighting  from  morning  till  night,  with 
no  stops  for  meals.  Suppose  I  told  half  the  fellows 
in  school  what  I  think  of  them  ?" 

"Suppose  I  told  half  the  men  downtown  what  I 
think  of  them?"  reflected  the  Judge,  with  inward 
shrinking. 

"But  there's  different  kinds  of  pretense,"  said 
Titus,  still  with  animation  and  still  pursuing  his 
grandfather,  who,  occasionally  looking  over  his 
shoulder,  was  stepping  cautiously  round  the  room. 
"I  saw  the  fellow  was  going  to  stay  here.  I 
wasn't  going  to  block  him.  I  can  keep  out  of  his 
way." 

"Then  you  are  not  prepared  to  receive  him  as  a 
brother?" 

"Brother — nonsense,"  said  Titus,  disrespectfully. 
"I  tell  you,  grandfather,  it's  easier  to  father  a  boy 
than  to  brother  him." 

"He  is  going  to  be  honest  now,"  said  the  Judge. 

"Moonshine !"  exclaimed  Titus,  angrily  stamping 
his  foot.  "He's  a  born  actor,  like  his  father." 

"Titus,"  said  the  Judge,  mildly,  from  a  corner 
where  he  had  taken  refuge,  "I  never  saw  you  do 
that  before.  You  have  been  a  respectful — " 

"Well,  I  don't  feel  respectful  now,"  said  the  boy, 
furiously.  "How  can  I  respect  you  when  I  see  every 


THE  YELLOW  SPOTTED  DOG  157 

Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry  pulling  the  wool  over  your 
eyes  ?" 

"Our  interview  is  at  an  end,"  said  the  Judge, 
"and  if  you  will  step  back  a  little  I  will  move  toward 
the  door.  I  am  sure  that  upon  thinking  this  matter 
over  you  will  see  an  apology  is  due  to  me." 

Titus  sulkily  dragged  himself  from  the  room. 
With  a  sinking  of  the  heart  the  Judge  noticed  that 
his  limp  was  more  perceptible  than  usual. 

"Grandson,"  he  called  after  him. 

Titus  turned  round.  His  grandfather's  face  was 
glowing. 

"How  can  you  ever  think  for  an  instant,"  said 
the  Judge,  "that  any  boy  or  any  girl  can  take  the 
place  of  my  only  dear  child?" 

Titus's  sullen  face  melted. 

"I  want  to  make  a  noble  man  of  you,  my  boy," 
continued  the  older  man,  advancing  with  both  hands 
outstretched.  "I  want  you  to  have  a  great,  gener- 
ous heart,  to  get  out  into  the  huge  world  and  make 
thousands  of  souls  happy.  You  cannot  expect  all 
those  souls  to  be  responsive.  You  have  got  to  make 
them  happy,  in  spite  of  themselves;  and  how  can 
you  hope  to  influence  thousands  when  you  shrink 
from  only  one,  and  only  a  slightly  uncongenial  soul, 
at  your  own  fireside?  O,  my  dear  grandson,  love 
everybody,  love  everybody!" 

It  would  have  taken  a  sterner  soul  than  Titus's  to 
resist  such  words,  such  ambitious  and  loving  affec- 
tion. 

"Grandfather,"  he  said,  slowly,  "I'm  sorry." 

The  Judge  caught  his  outstretched  hand.  "My 
dear  boy,"  he  said,  "my  dear  boy,"  and  he  pressed 


158  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

the  black  head  to  his  heart.  "My  own  dear 
boy." 

Titus  uttered  a  grunt  of  delight,  and  ran  away. 
That  own  was  for  him.  Fifty  thousand  English 
boys  could  not  come  between  him  and  his  grand- 
father. 

"Hello,  chickie,"  he  said,  catching  up  Bethany 
and  her  big  school  bag  as  they  appeared  in  the  door- 
way. "Hello,  chickie,"  and  he  carried  her  and  the 
bag  up  the  first  of  the  long  staircases. 

Laughing  and  catching  her  breath  with  delight, 
Bethany,  after  she  was  set  down  on  her  feet,  threw 
a  kiss  after  Titus  and  then  mounted  the  next  stair- 
case to  her  room. 

Titus,  pursuing  a  joyous  pilgrimage  to  the  stable, 
encountered  Higby,  and  gave  the  old  fellow  a  play- 
ful dig  in  the  ribs,  which  sent  him  into  his  pantry 
with  a  crease  of  delight  forming  itself  about  his 
lips.  Mrs.  Blodgett,  pursing  her  lips  over  a  spoiled 
pudding,  was  restored  to  good  humor  by  a  playful 
pinch  and  a  teasing  "Hello,  Blodgieblossom !"  She 
forgot  to  scold  further,  and  Martha  the  cook  bent 
over  the  dish  in  question  with  a  relieved  smile. 

Dashing  through  the  kitchen,  Titus  tossed  Jen- 
nie's apron  under  the  table,  then  scampered  out  to 
tease  and  comfort  Roblee. 

Bethany,  as  usual,  hurried  to  put  away  her  things, 
then,  kneeling  on  a  chair  before  her  big  basin,  she 
washed  her  little  face  and  hands  and  trotted  down- 
stairs to  have  her  before-luncheon  chat  with  the 
Judge  and  the  pigeon. 

It  was  astonishing  how  little  waiting  on  the  child 
required.  The  Judge  had  been  ready  and  willing 


THE  YELLOW  SPOTTED  DOG  159 

to  engage  a  youthful  maid  to  attend  her,  but  Mrs. 
Blodgett  had  begged  him  not  to  do  so,  saying  that 
an  extra  servant  would  only  be  in  the  way,  and  that 
Bethany  really  required  such  a  small  amount  of 
attention  that  any  of  the  present  maidservants  felt 
it  a  pleasure  to  give  it  to  her.  Therefore  Bethany 
had  a  small  room  all  to  herself  between  Mrs.  Blodg- 
ett's  and  Dallas's. 

Not  finding  the  Judge  in  his  study,  Bethany  de- 
voted herself  to  the  princess. 

"I  have  been  learning  a  new  song  about  you,"  she 
said,  prettily.  "Now,  listen,"  and  taking  her  red 
dress  in  her  hands  she  made  a  little  curtsey  and 
began: 

"This  is  the  birdie  I  love  the  best, 

This  is  the  Sukey  I  love  to  caress. 
This  is  the  birdie  I  love  the  best, 
This  is  my  darling  Sukey." 

In  the  midst  of  her  bowing  and  singing  the  Judge 
came  into  the  room.  Sukey  was  standing  with  one 
claw  uplifted,  a  pair  of  attentive  eyes  fixed  on  Beth- 
any, and  an  expression  that  seemed  to  say,  "Very 
pretty,  indeed;  please  sing  some  more." 

"Where  did  you  learn  that,  little  girl?"  inquired 
the  Judge. 

"I  just  changed  it,  Daddy  Grandpa,"  said  Beth- 
any, wheeling  round.  "It  is  really  and  truly  a  dolly 
song,  but  I  put  in  'birdie.' ' 

The  Judge  was  looking  intently  at  her.  Was  she 
not  going  to  inquire  about  the  English  boy?  She 
had  known  that  he  was  ill  when  she  went  to  school. 

"Don't  you  want  to  know  how  Dallas  is?"  he 
said,  suggestively. 


160  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"O,  yes,  poor  Dallas.    Is  he  a  sick  boy  yet?" 

"No,  he  is  better.  He  is  going  to  stay  here,  Beth- 
any." 

She  looked  up  quickly.  "To  be  your  other  boy — 
the  boy  you  were  looking  for  when  you  found  me  ?" 

"Yes — exactly  so." 

She  made  no  reply,  but,  sitting  down  in  the  little 
rocking-chair  that  the  Judge  kept  in  his  study  for 
her,  she  thoughtfully  took  Sukey  on  her  lap  and 
began  to  stroke  her  pretty  hood. 

"Are  you  glad?"  inquired  the  Judge. 

"I  would  rather  have  had  Charlie  Brown,"  she 
said,  frankly.  "Couldn't  the  Browns  take  Dallas, 
and  let  us  have  Charlie  ?" 

The  Judge  did  not  reply.  What  a  mysterious 
thing  was  child  nature.  Bethany  was  sweet  and 
kind  with  Dallas,  but  she  did  not  like  him  as  she 
did  Titus  and  Charlie  Brown. 

What  was  it  about  the  English  boy  that  did  not 
harmonize  with  the  natures  of  either  Bethany  or 
Titus?  It  could  not  be  a  racial  difference,  for  the 
boy  was  half  American.  Probably  Bethany  and 
Titus,  being  essentially  honest,  felt  that  there  was 
something  about  the  stranger  that  was  hidden  from 
them.  They  did  not  quite  trust  him.  Now,  if 
Dallas  were  to  turn  over  a  new  leaf  and  try  to  be 
strictly  honorable,  to  try  to  mean  just  what  he  said, 
their  slight  aversion  might  change  to  real  liking. 

"Daddy  Grandpa,"  asked  Bethany,  suddenly, 
"must  I  call  Dallas  'Brother'?" 

"Yes,  you  must,"  said  the  Judge,  firmly.  He 
would  do  his  best  to  reconcile  these  strong  young 
natures. 


THE  YELLOW  SPOTTED  DOG  161 

Bethany's  face  became  dreamy.  Her  fingers 
stopped  stroking  the  pigeon ;  she  was  wandering  off 
into  her  spirit  land  as  she  often  did  when  things 
in  her  material  world  went  contrary  with  her. 

The  Judge,  who  had  been  standing  watching  her, 
walked  back  and  forth,  and  finally  extended  his 
promenade  to  the  hall. 

When  he  approached  the  doorway  or  entered  the 
study  he  could  catch  sentences  from  Bethany. 

"Yellow,  spotted  dog,  you  must  not  bite  clothes. 
Be  a  good,  gentle  dog,  or  boys  will  throw  stones  at 
you.  Brick,  will  you  let  poor  doggie  sleep  in  your 
hogshead  to-night?  He  is  lonely  all  by  himself." 

"So  the  colored  boy  slept  in  a  hogshead,"  mur- 
mured the  Judge. 

"Hark,"  said  Bethany,  suddenly,  "I  hear  his  bark, 
his  sweet,  sweet  bark.  O,  my  dear  Bylow,  my  lovely 
spotted  dog,  I  could  hug  you." 

The  Judge,  happening  to  be  near  the  hall  window, 
and  happening  to  hear  a  dog  bark,  instinctively 
looked  out. 

To  his  amazement  a  colored  boy  with  a  dog  was 
passing  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  street — and  the 
dog  was  spotted. 

"Bethany,"  he  said,  suddenly,  "is  your  colored 
boy  very  black?" 

She  threw  up  her  little  head,  and,  losing  her 
thoughtful  expression,  came  back  to  earth.  "No, 
sir;  Brick  is  a  kind  of  a  red-brown  boy — like  bricks. 
That  is  why  the  boys  called  him  Brick." 

The  Judge  involuntarily  stretched  out  a  hand. 
He  felt  like  hailing  the  dirty-looking  mulatto  boy 
now  getting  out  of  sight. 


1 62  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"There  goes  Bylow  again,"  exclaimed  Bethany, 
"hear  his  sweet  little  voice,  Sukey." 

The  Judge  started.  The  dog  in  the  street  had 
just  uttered  a  succession  of  barks  as  he  turned  the 
corner — most  unmelodious  and  ugly  barks,  to  tell 
the  truth,  but  then  Bethany's  geese  were  all  swans. 

"Child,"  he  said,  "I  thought  that  dog  was  a  ghost 
dog." 

"So  he  is  a  ghost  dog,"  she  remonstrated,  gently, 
"but  don't  you  know  I  told  you  he  was  a  real  dog, 
too.  He  isn't  dead.  He  is  only  losted." 

"And  when  he  barked  just  now  was  he  barking 
as  a  ghost  or  a  real  dog?" 

"He  is  a  ghost,"  she  said,  thoughtfully,  "because 
I  never  see  him  in  the  streets  now,  but  I  guess  his 
bark  must  have  been  real — it  sounded  so  naturelle. 
Perhaps  he  is  in  the  air,"  and  she  looked  up  at  the 
ceiling. 

The  Judge  laughed  and  resumed  his  walk,  but  the 
dog  question  interested  him  considerably,  especially 
later  on  when  he  took  to  meeting  the  same  colored 
boy  about  town  with  a  spotted  dog  at  his  heels.  The 
dog  had  yellow  eyes,  and  the  Judge,  knowing  that 
if  the  boy  remained  in  Riverport  it  would  only  be  a 
question  of  time  as  to  his  meeting  with  Bethany, 
shuddered  and  shrank  within  himself,  for  he  knew 
what  the  little  girl  would  do. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

HlGBY   AND  THE   OWLS 

UNTIL  the  coming  of  Bethany  and  Dallas  the 
Judge  had  never  seen  Titus  in  contact  with  other 
boys  and  girls. 

The  boy  had  been  brought  up  alone;  when  he 
wanted  playmates  he  went  abroad  to  seek  them.  He 
very  seldom  brought  a  boy  home  to  play  with  him. 
The  Judge  had  often  remarked  this,  and  had  attrib- 
uted the  absence  of  children  from  his  own  house  as 
an  outward  sign  of  Mrs.  Blodgett's  inward  dislike 
of  "clutter."  However,  since  his  adoption  of  Beth- 
any and  Dallas  he  had  noticed  that  boys  and  girls 
came  about  the  house  quite  freely. 

There  was  therefore  some  other  reason  for  their 
previous  absence;  and  in  his  new  interest  in  boy 
and  girl  study  he  decided  that  one  child  alone  in  a 
home  is  not  a  sufficient  nucleus  for  a  play  place. 
He  cannot  gather  round  himself  as  great  a  variety 
of  interests  as  several  children  can. 

Another  thing  the  Judge  marveled  at  was  the 
amazing  strength  of  youthful  character.  Titus 
when  alone  had  been  submissive,  patient,  self-effac- 
ing. As  soon  as  these  other  children  had  been 
introduced  into  the  house  he  became  self-assert- 
ive, particular  as  to  his  rights,  and  yet  not 
disagreeable. 


164  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Even  little  Bethany  had  a  strong  character.  Lit- 
tle men  and  women — grown  people  in  miniature, 
the  Judge  often  thought  to  himself  as  he  gazed  at 
the  three  young  heads  about  his  table. 

Dallas'  success  as  a  member  of  his  family  had  so 
far  exceeded  his  most  sanguine  expectations.  The 
Judge  had  written  a  rather  amusing  letter  to  Mr. 
Folsom  on  the  subject  of  his  adoption  of  the  boy, 
and  had  told  him  firmly  that  although  he  was  keep- 
ing Dallas  he  was  to  be  the  last  child  of  adoption. 
He  wished  no  others.  Alas!  the  Judge  was  no 
prophet. 

Mr.  Folsom,  in  his  delight,  had  come  to  Riverport, 
and  had  had  a  three-days'  visit  at  the  Judge's  and 
many  long  conversations  with  Dallas.  The  Judge 
could  not  but  acknowledge  that  Dallas  was  in  part 
a  changed  boy.  He  could  not  expect  him  to  make 
himself  over  all  at  once,  but  the  lad  was  certainly 
more  sincere.  He  was  still  polite,  exceedingly  polite, 
but  he  did  not  bore  himself  and  other  people  by 
doing  things  that  were  against  his  nature. 

For  instance,  he  had  given  up  his  ceaseless  com- 
panionship of  Titus.  The  two  went  their  respective 
ways.  They  did  not  quarrel,  neither  did  they  har- 
monize and  to  the  Judge's  amusement  they  even 
went  to  school  at  separate  times. 

If  there  was  a  question  of  championship  Titus 
was  at  Dallas'  side,  and  one  day  the  Judge  did 
hear  a  species  of  altercation  between  the  two  boys — 
an  altercation  that  had  ended  in  a  reconciliation. 
Titus  had  Dallas  penned  in  a  corner  out  in  the 
garden  under  the  Judge's  study  balcony. 

"Look  here,  if  you  don't  try  to  drop  your  blamed 


HlGBY  AND   THE   OWLS  165 

old  English  accent  I'll  stop  fighting  for  you,"  he 
said.  "I  'most  got  my  nose  broken  to-day.  Can't 
you  say  'fast'  ?  It  isn't  'fost.'  " 

"Fast,  fast,"  said  Dallas,  submissively. 

"Now  say  'last.' ' 

Dallas  said  "last"  and  "mast"  and  many  other 
words,  until  at  last  he  got  out  of  patience  and  re- 
belled. "I  don't  want  to  lose  my  English  accent. 
I  am  proud  of  being  English." 

"Then  you  do  your  own  fighting,"  said  Titus, 
furiously. 

"What  makes  you  think  I  can't  fight,"  said  Dal- 
las, and  his  pale  cheeks  grew  pink.  "I'm  taller  than 
you." 

"Taller,"  sneered  Titus;  "you're  soft  like  a  stick 
of  candy." 

He  began  his  sentence  on  his  feet,  but  finished  it 
on  his  back  in  a  bank  of  snow. 

He  was  up  like  a  flash  and  standing  before  Dal- 
las, who  was  ejaculating,  "You  little  black  lead 
pencil." 

Titus's  wrath  was  all  gone,  to  the  Judge's  amaze- 
ment, and  he  was  gurgling  in  his  throat:  "How  did 
you  do  it?  Teach  me  that  trick — come  on,  Dallas, 
teach  me." 

The  English  boy's  contempt  faded,  and  he  smiled 
complacently  at  the  changed  face  before  him. 

"I  will  tell  you  something,"  he  said,  grandly. 
"Once  my  father  was  to  figure  in  a  wrestling  match 
on  the  stage.  Now,  he  was  a  good  all-round  ath- 
lete, but  he  was  not  satisfied  with  himself.  We  were 
in  New  York  at  the  time.  You  have  heard  of  Billy 
McGee,  the  trainer?" 


1 66  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Titus  caught  his  breath.    "O,  yes — yes." 

"Well,  he  got  Billy  McGee  to  come  and  train  him. 
It  cost  a  fearful  sum,  but  father  gave  it.  Billy 
taught  my  father,  and  my  father  taught  me.  So  you 
needn't  fight  my  battles  any  more." 

Titus's  face  was  glowing.  "I  say,"  and  he  linked 
his  arm  in  Dallas's,  "tell  me  some  of  those  tricks 
of  throwing.  I  don't  know  a  thing." 

The  Judge  groaned.  The  boys  were  walking 
away  together  arm  in  arm.  "O,  this  glorification 
of  brute  strength,"  he  muttered,  "the  bane  of  the 
rising  generation,"  and  holding  out  a  finger  to  the 
pigeon,  who  was  bowing  and  cooing  to  him,  he 
stepped  into  the  house.  He  must  talk  to  these  boys 
on  the  subject  of  fighting,  and  seating  himself  in  his 
favorite  chair  he  began  to  prepare  a  fatherly  or 
grandfatherly  speech. 

Bethany  came  in  and,  seeing  that  he  did  not  wish 
to  be  disturbed,  sat  down  on  the  rug  with  Sukey. 

Higby  brought  in  the  afternoon  mail,  and  with  a 
stifled  yawn  laid  it  on  the  table  and  departed. 

Poor  old  Higby !  He  was  a  very  early  riser,  and 
at  the  close  of  every  day  he  began  to  get  sleepy, 
and  immediately  after  the  seven  o'clock  dinner  of  the 
household  he  retired  to  his  room.  Jennie,  the  parlor 
maid,  took  upon  herself  his  duty  of  going  to  the 
hall  door  when  there  was  a  ring. 

On  this  particular  day  the  Judge  composed  his 
speech,  then  went  down  to  dinner  with  Bethany. 
Somewhat  to  his  dismay,  somewhat  to  his  relief, 
and  just  a  little  to  his  amusement,  Titus  and  Dallas 
came  to  the  table  like  two  brothers.  Their  eyes 
were  on  each  other,  their  attentions  were  for 


HlGBY   AND   THE   OWLS  1 67 

each  other;  they  scarcely  saw  the  Judge  and  Beth- 
any. 

Ah!  the  enthusiasm  of  youth,  and  shaking  his 
head  the  Judge  requested  them  both  to  accompany 
him  to  his  study  after  dinner.  Upon  arriving  there 
he  talked  to  them  very  seriously  on  the  evil  of  pick- 
ing quarrels  with  other  boys  and  the  demoralizing 
effects  of  an  appeal  to  brute  force. 

The  boys  were  listening  attentively  and  respect- 
fully, when  their  minds  were  most  forcibly  with- 
drawn by  a  succession  of  blood-curdling  shrieks 
from  the  floor  above. 

With  one  accord  they  all  sprang  to  their  feet  and 
ran  out  to  the  hall. 

"B-b-burglars !  Th-th-thieves !  F-f-fire!  M-m- 
murderers !"  rang  out  in  stammering  tones. 

Poor  old  Higby,  in  the  fine  dressing-gown  that 
the  Judge  had  given  him  at  Christmas,  and  in  a 
pair  of  bedroom  slippers  to  match  that  Mrs.  Blodg- 
ett  had  made  for  him,  was  running  downstairs, 
screaming  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and  with  eyes 
starting  from  his  head. 

"R-r-ring  up  the  police,"  he  went  on,  "c-c-catch 
them  alive!" 

"Higby,"  commanded  the  Judge,  firmly,  "calm 
yourself  and  tell  us  what  is  the  matter." 

The  old  man  gained  some  degree  of  composure 
upon  arriving  in  the  hall  and  seeing  himself  sur- 
rounded by  friends. 

"They  'm-m-most  killed  me,"  he  said,  wildly, 
stepping  up  and  down  and  clasping  his  head  with 
his  hands.  "They  t-t-tried  to  dig  their  knives  in 
me,  but  I  r-r-ran  like  a  fox." 


1 68  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Though  considerably  older  than  the  Judge,  his 
head  was  not  white,  but  was  covered  with  a  thin 
crop  of  grizzled  hair. 

"O,  blood !"  he  moaned,  miserably,  bringing  down 
one  hand  and  extending  it  toward  the  Judge,  "blood ! 
blood!" 

There  were  red  streaks  on  his  hands,  and  the 
Judge  looked  at  them  seriously. 

"Higby,  begin  from  the  first.  What  has  hap- 
pened to  you?" 

The  man  began  to  step  backward  and  to  stammer 
violently. 

"S-s-sir,  I  was  in  m-m-my  room,  b-b-back  through 
the  upper  hall  in  the  L." 

"Turn  him  round,  some  one,"  called  Mrs.  Blodg- 
ett,  who  was  hurrying  up  from  below.  "He's  back- 
ing downstairs." 

Titus  sprang  forward,  took  him  by  the  sleeve,  and 
led  him  past  the  group  of  frightened  maids  to  a  safe 
corner  by  the  hall  window. 

From  there  he  went  on  with  his  story. 

"W-w-was  in  m-m-my  room  in  my  bed,  s-s-sound 
asleep,  d-dreaming  of  home  and  m-m-mother. 
S-s-sir,"  and  he  turned  to  the  Judge,  "w-w-we  lived 
in  a  little  house  b-b-by  a  running  brook,  n-n-near 
a  w-w-wood.  I  woke  up,  s-s-sir,  c-c-crying.  Then 
I  heard  a  s-s-sound,  sir,  1-1-like  the  sounds  of  o-o-old 
times." 

"Well?"  said  the  Judge,  encouragingly. 

"I-I-I  got  up,  sir ;  I  put  on  m-m-my  gown  a-a-and 
s-s-slippers ;  I-I-I  went  out  in  the  h-h-hall,  sir." 

"And  what  happened?" 

"Th-th-the  burglars  must  h-h-have  been  waiting, 


HlGBY   AND   THE   OWLS  169 

s-s-sir.  They  j-j-jumped  on  me  from  behind. 
Th-th-they  struck  me  on  the  h-h-head  with  their 
sharp  knives,  s-s-sir." 

"Did  you  see  them  ?"  asked  the  Judge,  sharply. 

"I-I-I  thought  I  saw  one,  sir.  He  was  all  in 
b-b-black,  sir,  and  he  d-d-dug  his  knife  in  me." 

The  Judge  looked  mystified.  If  it  had  been  the 
middle  of  the  night  he  would  have  believed  Higby's 
story,  but  early  in  the  evening  he  could  not  for  a 
moment  suppose  that  any  thieves  would  rush  out 
and  attack  a  person  who  was  simply  walking  along  a 
hall.  However,  he  turned  to  the  boys. 

"Come  upstairs  with  me  and  we  will  make  a 
thorough  search." 

"Wait  a  minute,  please,  sir,"  said  Dallas.  "May 
I  ask  Higby  what  the  sound  was  that  drew  him 
from  his  bed?" 

"T-t-the  sound  of  owls,  sir,"  stammered  Higby, 
"of  little  ow-ow-owls  sittin'  on  the  trees  an' 
hootin.' " 

Dallas  gave  Titus  a  queer  look,  and  the  latter 
immediately  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Ton  my  word ;  poor  old  Higby,"  gasped  Titus. 
"You've  been  fooled." 

The  manservant  looked  at  him  indignantly,  while 
Dallas  turned  to  the  Judge,  who  was  waiting  for 
an  explanation. 

"You  told  me  not  to  keep  my  birds  so  closely,  sir, 
so  I  let  them  do  pretty  much  as  they  please.  I  open 
my  window  every  night  at  dusk.  They  must  have 
got  in  through  some  other  window  into  the  hall. 
It  is  a  habit  of  owls  to  pounce  on  anything  furry 
or  hairy." 


170  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"I  know  that,"  said  the  Judge,  with  a  hearty 
laugh.  "I've  heard  of  their  descending  on  the  fur 
caps  of  hunters.  Well !  well !  poor  old  Higby,"  and 
he  turned  to  him.  "Come,  now,  get  over  your  fright. 
Those  were  only  little  birds  that  attacked  you — 
Master  Dallas's  little  owls." 

Higby  was  in  a  speechless  rage.  He  did  not  dare 
to  get  angry  with  the  Judge,  but  he  did  not  for  a 
moment  believe  that  his  assailant  had  been  a  bird. 

"Come,  come,"  said  the  Judge,  humoring  him; 
"to  satisfy  you  we  will  make  a  search." 

Quite  a  procession  moved  up  the  stairway — the 
Judge,  holding  Bethany's  hand,  in  advance,  the  two 
boys  and  the  servants  following. 

Upon  arriving  in  the  upper  hall  and  traversing 
it  to  the  L  beyond,  where  the  servants'  bedrooms 
were  over  the  kitchen  and  pantries,  Dallas  kept 
looking  sharply  about. 

One  peculiarity  of  the  Judge  was  that  he  liked 
plenty  of  light.  At  night  the  electric  lights  were 
turned  on  in  every  hall  and  every  room,  whether 
occupied  or  not. 

"I  do  not  see  the  culprits,"  said  Dallas,  "but  I 
will  call,"  and  he  gave  a  tentative  "Too  whoo,  whoo, 
whoo  whoo !" 

"Too  whoo,  whoo,  whoo  whoo,"  said  two  little 
soft  voices  near  them. 

Dallas  stuck  his  head  out  a  window.  "Ah,  there 
are  the  miscreants,  sitting  on  the  limb  of  that  tree." 

The  branches  of  the  big,  leafless  old  elm  brushed 
the  hall  window,  and  the  little  owls  sitting  there  were 
calmly  contemplating  a  rising  moon. 

The  Judge  let  Bethany  look  at  them,  then  he 


HlGBY   AND   THE   OWLS 

said :  "See,  Higby,  there  are  your  burglars.  There 
are  no  traces  of  any  others  here.  No  man  would 
be  bold  enough  to  pass  through  this  lighted  house, 
and  if  he  did  why  should  he  attack  you?" 

"I-I-I  saw  him,"  burst  from  Higby,  "a  b-b-big 
black  man." 

The  Judge  looked  down  at  Bethany.  She  was 
tightly  clasping  his  hand,  and  the  expression  of  her 
face  was  doubtful. 

"They  were  owls  that  attacked  you,  Higby,"  he 
said,  decidedly;  "don't  let  me  hear  any  more  non- 
sense about  a  burglar.  Come  downstairs,  children," 
and  he  turned  about. 

Bethany  would  not  let  go  his  hand,  even  when 
they  entered  the  study. 

"I  will  read  aloud  a  little  to  compose  her  thoughts 
before  she  goes  to  bed,"  the  Judge  reflected.  "No 
fairy  tales  to  stimulate  her  imagination,  but  some- 
thing that  she  will  not  understand,"  and  he  took 
from  his  bookshelves  a  volume  of  Milton's 
works. 

He  seated  himself  by  the  table,  drew  his  reading 
light  toward  him,  and  began.  After  a  time  he 
looked  down  at  the  little  figure  sitting  on  the  stool 
at  his  feet. 

"I  suppose  you  don't  understand  this,  Bethany," 
he  said,  patronizingly. 

"O,  don't  speak,  don't  speak,  Daddy  Grandpa," 
she  said,  impatiently ;  "please  go  on." 

She  had  lifted  her  head.  Her  face  had  lost  its 
dreamy  expression.  It  was  glowing,  radiant,  and 
intensely  interested.  The  Judge  went  on  mechan- 
ically : 


172  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"  '  There  the  companions  of  his  fall,  o'erwhelmed 
With  floods  and  whirlwinds  of  tempestuous  fire — '  " 

Why,  the  child  was  understanding  what  he  read, 
he  reflected  with  surprise,  or,  rather,  she  was  put- 
ting her  own  interpretation  upon  it. 

"Bethany,"  he  asked  after  a  time  and  slowly 
closing  the  book,  "what  do  you  make  of  all 
this?" 

"O,  I  think,"  she  said,  eloquently,  "that  Satan 
must  be  the  father  of  that  bad  black  man  that  struck 
Higby,  and  his  home  must  be  in  the  fiery  gulf." 

The  Judge  smiled.  "Bethany,  those  were  Dallas's 
owls  that  attacked  Higby.  There  was  no  black  man 
there." 

"But,  Daddy  Grandpa,"  she  said,  incredulously, 
"little  birds  could  not  be  so  bad." 

"I  fear  they  were  bad,  Bethany.  Birds  are  not  all 
good.  They  are  like  children.  Some  are  good, 
some  bad ;  but  come,  it  is  your  bedtime." 

"It  doesn't  feel  my  bedtime,"  she  said,  quickly. 

"But  it  is.    Little  girls  ought  to  get  to  bed  early." 

"Sometimes  I  sat  up  late  when  my  mamma  was 
alive,"  she  said,  coaxingly. 

"I  think  you  would  better  go,"  said  the  Judge. 

"There  is  no  one  up  there  that  I  know,"  she  re- 
plied, drearily. 

"How  about  Ellen  and  Susie;  you  tell  me  they 
live  in  the  wall  beside  your  bed." 

"They  have  gone  to  the  country  to  see  the  place 
where  they  are  buried,"  she  said,  quickly. 

The  Judge  was  silent.  Sometimes  his  studies  of 
childhood  mystified  him.  Just  now  he  was  afraid 
that  Higby's  foolish  story  had  caused  this  hereto- 


HlGBY    AND    THE    OWLS  173 

fore  fearless  child  suddenly  to  become  afraid  to 
go  upstairs  to  bed. 

While  he  was  thinking  she  silently  caressed  the 
pigeon,  which  had  hopped  up  into  her  lap,  but  after 
a  time  she  put  up  one  of  her  tiny  hands  and  con- 
vulsively seized  his  large  one.  ''Daddy  Grandpa, 
read  some  more.  You  have  a  honey  voice." 

The  Judge  smiled  broadly,  then  he  took  up  a 
magazine  from  the  table.  What  would  best  put  a 
little  girl  to  sleep  ?  Ah !  the  political  situation  in  the 
far  East,  and  this  time  Bethany  did  go  to  sleep. 
Her  head  was  against  his  knee  so  he  could  not  move, 
but  through  the  doorway  he  hailed  Dallas,  who  was 
coming  out  of  the  sitting  room  opposite,  where  he 
and  Titus  prepared  their  lessons. 

"Dallas,  send  Mrs.  Blodgett  here." 

"Mrs.  Blodgett,"  he  said,  when  she  came  puffing 
up  the  stairway  and  stood  before  him,  "have  a 
bed  moved  in  this  little  girl's  room  and  let  one  of 
the  maids  sleep  there  in  future.  I  don't  think  that 
it  is  good  for  her  to  be  alone  so  much." 

Mrs.  Blodgett  nodded  her  head.  "Just  what  I've 
been  a-thinkin',  sir.  I'm  willin',  I'm  sure,  to  take 
her  in  my  own  room  next  door." 

"No,  no;  you  need  your  sleep,"  said  the  Judge. 
"You  are  getting  older,  and  you  have  brought  up 
one  family.  Let  one  of  the  girls  attend  to  this 
child." 

"She  do  talk  a  lot  to  herself  in  her  room,  sir. 
I  hears  her  laughin'  and  chattin'  with  them  two 
blessed  little  girls  of  yours." 

"Doesn't  she  talk  of  other  children?"  asked  the 
Judge. 


174  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"O,  bless  you,  yes,  sir,  an'  she  also  talks  to  tables, 
an'  chairs,  an'  carpets,  an'  that  ghost  mouse.  She 
do  have  a  name  for  everything  in  her  room,  an' 
you'd  think  she  had  a  whole  menagerie  to  hear  her 
growl  an'  bark." 

"Must  be  the  spotted  dog,"  said  the  Judge  to 
himself  with  a  smile,  and  he  again  took  up  his 
magazine. 

Mrs.  Blodgett  waddled  away.  "Sure  an'  it's  a 
wonderful  thing  how  at  his  age  he  do  take  on  the 
ways  of  a  family  man.  He  ought  to  'a'  had  a 
dozen  children." 

The  Judge  was  instinctively  a  model  person  at 
managing  children.  To  begin  with,  he  loved  them ; 
and  to  end  with,  he  did  not  fuss  over  them.  Just 
now  he  was  becoming  intensely  uncomfortable  on 
account  of  this  solid  little  lump  against  his  slightly 
rheumatic  knee.  If  he  took  her  up  and  laid  her 
on  the  sofa  he  might  wake  her,  so  he  gave  her  a 
cautious  little  push.  She  gently  rolled  over.  He 
guided  her  head  and  assisted  the  indignant  pigeon 
to  fly  away.  Now  Bethany  was  comfortably 
stretched  on  the  floor  sleeping  soundly,  her  pretty 
mouth  wide  open,  after  the  fashion  of  civilized 
children. 

The  Judge  had  heard  of  Indian  mothers  closing 
the  mouths  of  their  babes,  so  he  bent  over  and  gently 
brought  the  child's  lips  together.  To  his  delight 
they  stayed  closed,  and  with  a  sigh  of  relief  he 
stretched  out  his  long  legs,  took  up  his  magazine, 
and  looked  enjoyably  about  him  before  he  went  on 
with  his  reading. 

He  was  intensely  fond  of  his  books ;  indeed,  read- 


HlGBY   AND    THE   OWLS  175 

ing  was  almost  a  passion  with  him,  and  the  evening 
hours  were  the  pleasantest  part  of  the  day. 

Work  was  over,  the  children  were  safely  in  the 
house — for  since  Titus's  accident  he  always  had  a 
little  anxiety  about  boys  and  girls  absent  from  their 
own  roof  trees — and  he  was  free  to  amuse  himself  in 
this  most  delightful  of  ways. 

Alas  for  the  Judge!  He  had  not  read  five  sen- 
tences when  he  heard  a  shrill,  insistent  voice,  not  in 
this  upper  hall,  but  in  the  one  below,  away  down 
by  the  front  door. 

"I  tell  you  I  must  see  the  Jedge.  I  hevn't  got  no 
message." 

Strange  to  say,  the  voice,  which  was  shrill  and 
uncultured  rather  than  noisy,  woke  Bethany  like 
the  sound  of  a  trumpet. 

Instantly  rousing  herself  she  sat  up  and  looked 
composedly  at  the  Judge.  There  was  not  the  slight- 
est sign  of  confusion  about  her,  or  any  bewildered 
look  as  of  a  child  hastily  aroused  from  sleep. 

"Daddy  Grandpa,"  she  said,  quickly,  "I'm  the 
yellow  spotted  dog,"  and  beginning  to  growl  and 
snap  horribly  she  went  down  on  hands  and  feet  and 
crawled  under  a  big  table  in  a  corner — a  favorite 
play  place  because  it  had  a  long,  heavy  cover  whose 
sheltering  folds  concealed  a  castle,  a  ship,  a  railway 
train,  an  ogre's  cavern,  or  any  other  fancy  that  Beth- 
any chose  to  indulge  in. 

The  Judge  looked  after  her  submissively.  His 
part  was  not  to  rebel,  but  to  await  developments. 

Then  he  turned  his  head  to  the  doorway. 

"Sir,"  said  Jennie,  in  a  puzzled  voice,  "there's 
a  little  poor  girl  craving  to  see  you." 


176  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"Bring  her  up,"  said  the  Judge,  promptly,  and  he 
tried  to  think  where  he  had  heard  that  shrill  voice 
before. 

Two  minutes  later  he  knew,  for  Airy  Tingsby, 
the  smart,  pert  girl,  the  head  of  the  Tingsby  clan, 
and  the  one  who  had  been  so  saucy  and  impertinent 
to  him,  now  stood  within  a  few  feet  of  his  chair. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
A  CALL  FROM  AIRY 

THE  Judge  was  a  gentleman,  and  he  was  in  his 
own  house,  so  he  got  up,  motioned  her  to  a  seat, 
and  said,  politely,  "Good-evening." 

"Good-night,"  she  said,  curtly,  then  she  looked 
about  her. 

O,  the  bitter  envy  and  discontent  of  her  face! 
The  Judge  averted  her  eyes.  It  was  not  pleasant 
to  see  that  expression  on  the  face  of  a  child,  for  she 
was  scarcely  more. 

"Why  hev  you  got  all  this?"  she  said,  suddenly, 
"and  why  hev  I  nothin'?" 

The  Judge  made  no  reply  except  that  of  a  mourn- 
ful shake  of  his  head. 

"And  why,"  she  went  on,  leaning  eagerly  forward 
from  her  chair  and  pinching  the  thin  sleeve  of  her 
jacket,  "do  I  hev  to  wear  shoddy  cloth  an'  you  wear 
broadcloth  ?" 

"Only  Oxford  cloth,"  said  the  Judge,  protest- 
ingly,  "only  Oxford  in  this  house  suit." 

"How  much  did  you  pay  for  it?"  she  asked, 
grimly. 

He  made  no  reply,  and  she  continued.  "How 
much  did  you  lay  out  on  that  diamond  neck  pin; 
how  much  did  your  house  cost  and  this  fine  furni- 
ture?" 


178  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

The  Judge  discreetly  evaded  an  answer  by  a  pro- 
testing wave  of  his  hand,  and  at  the  same  time 
thought  that  a  few  months  previous  to  this  he  would 
have  bowed  the  saucy  little  girl  from  the  room. 
Now,  although  he  wanted  to  get  back  to  his  read- 
ing, and  he  gazed  wistfully  at  the  heap  of  new  lit- 
erature on  his  table,  he  was  really  anxious  to  hear 
what  the  girl  had  to  say.  Something  lay  under 
this — so  much  he  had  learned  of  youthful  ways. 
How  the  little  wretches  understood  that  he  was 
interested  in  their  confidences.  They  were  as  sharp 
as  grown  people. 

"My  girl,"  he  said,  kindly,  "what  have  you  come 
here  for?" 

Before  she  answered  him  she  pointed  half  angrily, 
half  curiously  at  Sukey.  "What's  that,  an'  what's 
it  starin'  at  me  for,  like  as  if  I  had  no  right  to  be 
here?" 

The  pigeon,  to  the  Judge's  amusement,  had  re- 
sented Airy's  entrance  as  much  as  Bethany  had  done, 
but  instead  of  retreating  she  advanced,  stepping 
high,  and  curling  each  pink  claw  with  indignation. 
The  look  on  her  high-bred  face  was  delicious,  com- 
ing from  a  pigeon.  Her  greenish-yellow  eyes  were 
stony,  every  feather  in  her  hood  quivered  and 
seemed  to  close  more  protectingly  about  the  little 
white  head. 

Once  or  twice  before,  the  Judge  had  seen  her  act 
so  in  the  presence  of  poor  people,  and  he  had  laid 
her  indignation  down  to  a  sense  of  smell,  like  that 
of  the  average  dog,  who  hates  a  poor  or  dirty  per- 
son. But  Airy  was  a  very  clean  child.  The  Judge 
knew  what  kind  of  a  mother  Mrs.  Tingsby  was, 


A  CALL  FROM  AIRY  179 

so  his  theory  of  smell  would  scarcely  hold  good  in 
this  case. 

Possibly  Sukey  was  sympathizing  with  Bethany, 
whom  she  had  got  to  love  devotedly.  Anyway,  the 
Judge  must  answer  the  child,  so  he  said,  kindly, 
"The  bird  is  a  pigeon ;  she  is  called  a  Jacobin." 

"She's  an  ugly  thing,  anyway,"  replied  Airy, 
sulkily,  "an'  she  hates  me.  Shoo !"  and  she  clapped 
her  hands. 

The  indignant  Sukey,  who  was  no  heroine,  turned 
tail  and  scuttled  under  Bethany's  table,  where  the 
Judge  heard  a  low  growl  of  welcome  greet  her. 
Then,  his  two  pets  safely  disposed  of,  he  looked 
expectantly  at  Airy,  hoping  that  she  would  remem- 
ber his  question  as  to  her  motive  for  calling  on  him. 

She  did  remember,  and,  sinking  back  in  her  chair 
with  a  weary  gesture,  she  said,  "I've  come  to  tell 
you  that  I  wants  to  be  a  lady." 

"Poor  child !"  murmured  the  Judge,  involuntarily. 
Then  he  tried  to  realize  the  enormity  of  the  ques- 
tion thrust  upon  him. 

"Why  warn't  I  born  a  lady?"  pursued  Airy, 
uncompromisingly.  "Why  warn't  I  born  your 
darter?" 

"Well,"  said  the  Judge,  hesitatingly,  "well,  I  sup- 
pose it  pleased  Providence  to  place  you  in  another 
sphere." 

"Sphere!"  she  repeated,  sneeringly,  "that's  no 
word  I  ever  heard.  'Pears  to  me  you  rich  folks 
make  up  words  to  suit  yourselves.  But  if  I  don't 
know  'sphere/  I  do  not  know  one  word,  an*  that's 
'Fiddlesticks!" 

"Well,"  replied  the  Judge,  with  a  polite  move- 


180  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

ment  of  his  head,  "your  word  is  a  good  old  English 
one  used  by  Southey,  Thackeray,  and  others,  though 
I  believe  it  is  unknown  just  how  and  why  it  became 
an  expression  of  contempt." 

"I  don't  know  what  you're  drivin'  at,"  replied 
Airy,  wearily,  "but  I'm  goin'  to  say  my  proposition 
over  again :  I  wants  to  be  a  lady !" 

The  Judge,  having  heard  the  announcement  be- 
fore, bore  it  this  time  with  fortitude. 

"An'  what's  more,"  she  went  on,  "I  wants  you  to 
help  me." 

"What  can  I  do?"  inquired  the  Judge,  in  mild 
surprise. 

"You  can  gab  a  bit  with  me  now  an'  then,"  she 
said,  earnestly.  "Why,  I  took  to  you  the  first  time 
I  see  you." 

"Did  you,"  replied  the  Judge.  "Well— ahem!— 
I  fancied  that  you  were  not  much  taken  with 
me." 

"I  was  mad  with  you,"  she  said,  frankly,  "mad 
because  I  figgered  that  you  was  returnin'  Bethany 
on  us.  Then  I  was  mad  to  think  you  didn't  get 
mad." 

"Do  you  get  mad  easily?" 

"Awful  easy.  I'm  mad  'most  all  the  time.  You 
see,  I'm  kind  of  sickly,  an'  I  hevn't  much  relish 
for  what  I  eats,  an'  nothin'  makes  you  mad  like 
pickin'  at  yer  food." 

"Poor  child !"  said  the  Judge,  sympathetically. 

"But  I'm  goin'  to  be  a  lady,"  she  said,  and  her 
little  sharp  face  hardened,  "if  I  lives.  If  I  dies  it 
don't  matter." 

She  was  silent  for  a  few  seconds,  being  employed 


A  CALL  FROM  AIRY  181 

in  a  search  among  her  patched  and  darned  but  clean 
garments  for  a  rag  of  a  handkerchief,  as  white  as 
the  morsel  of  linen  peeping  from  the  Judge's  own 
pocket. 

"And  what  steps  have  you  taken  in  the  matter?" 
inquired  the  Judge,  knowing  that  he  was  expected 
to  take  an  interest  in  this  question  of  ladyhood. 

"Fust  of  all,  I've  quit  work,"  she  replied.  "What 
air  you  laughin'  at?"  for  the  Judge  was  unable  to 
conceal  his  amusement. 

"Just  at  the  idea  of  a  lazy  lady,"  he  replied ;  "go 
on,  please." 

"Did  I  say  I  was  goin'  to  be  lazy?"  she  returned, 
fiercely.  "I've  just  stopped  shopgirlin'  it,  but  I'm 
a-studyin'  like  sixty." 

"O,  going  to  school?" 

"Yes,  sir.  Onct  before  I  went,  before  I  got  into 
Moses  &  Brown's  big  Dry  Goods  Emporium — all 
the  latest  fashions  in  ladies'  neckwear,  underwear, 
street  wear,  house  wear,  weddin'  wear,  funeral  wear, 
summer  wear,  winter  wear,  an'  so  on." 

The  Judge  drew  a  long  breath.    "Indeed !" 

"Yes,  I'm  a-schoolin*  it.  I  tell  you,  when  I  saw 
where  Bethany  had  come,  an'  when  that  boy  of  yours 
come  hurryin'  down  River  Street  with  books  an' 
things  for  us  an'  hurryin'  off  again  like  as  we  was 
poisoned,  I  begun  to  think,  'It's  time  I  was  lookin' 
higher.' ' 

A  doubtful  expression  passed  over  the  Judge's 
face,  but  instead  of  resenting  it  she  went  hurriedly 
on :  "So  the  next  time  Barry  Mafferty  comes  in,  says 
I  to  him,  'Barry,  I  wants  to  be  a  lady.'  Says  he, 
'Then  quit  yer  shop  an'  go  to  school,  an'  I'll  teach 


1 82  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

you  Latin  an'  French,  'cause  you'll  not  get  them  in 
the  fust  grades  of  the  public/  An'  he  gave  me  a 
book.  I  can  say  mensa  now — mensa,  mensce,  menses, 
mensam,  mensa,  mensa.  Menses,  mensarum,  mensis, 
mensas,  menses,  mensis.  An*  musa,  too,"  and  she 
glibly  rattled  off  the  declension  of  musa. 

"And  do  you  know  what  musa  means?"  inquired 
the  Judge,  somewhat  helplessly,  when  she  at  last 
paused  for  want  of  breath. 

"Musa,  amuse,"  she  replied,  quickly. 

"And  what  is  a  muse  ?"  pursued  the  Judge. 

"You  don't  know  what  amuse  is  at  your  time  of 
life!"  she  said,  sharply.  "Come  on,  now,  you're 
just  foolin'  me." 

"Ask  Mafferty  to  tell  you  about  the  Muses  the 
next  time  you  go  to  him,"  said  the  Judge.  "At 
present  you  have  a  wrong  idea  of  the  meaning  of 
the  word." 

"Hev  I?"  she  said,  sharply.  "I'll  find  out  better. 
Want  to  hear  some  French  ?" 

"If  you  like,"  replied  the  Judge,  politely. 

"Jawey,  tawey,  lawey,  nouzaviong,  vousaviez, 
ilzong.  Do  you  know  what  that  means?" 

"I  can  guess,"  replied  her  friend,  calmly. 

"You  want  ter  laugh,"  she  said,  suddenly; 
"you're  bustin',  I  can  see,  but  wait  till  I'm  gone.  I 
hate  to  be  larfed  at." 

The  Judge  guiltily  hung  his  head. 

"Now,"  she  said,  in  a  businesslike  way,  "I  don't 
want  yer  for  teachin'  me  French  nor  langwidges, 
nor  grammar.  What  I  wants  is  ladyness  from  yer. 
Come  on,  now,  what's  the  fust  thing  in  bein'  a 
lady?" 


A  CALL  FROM  AIRY  183 

She  was  intensely,  terribly  in  earnest,  and  the 
Judge  braced  up. 

"Well,"  he  said,  seriously,  "first  of  all,  before  I 
can  give  you  one  single  word  of  advice,  I  want  to 
know  what  you  intend  to  make  of  young  ladyhood — 
providing  you  attain  to  it." 

"Don't  understand  all  yer  big  words,"  she  said, 
"but  I  catches  yer  meanin'.  What  do  I  want  to 
be  a  lady  for?  I  wants  to  be  a  lady  so  as  to  make 
you  an'  other  men  stand  round." 

"Very  good,"  murmured  the  Judge;  "but  go  on, 
pray." 

"What  does  you  care  for  me  now?"  she  said,  dis- 
dainfully. "My  name's  mud  to  you.  I'm  a  River 
Street  rat.  Aint  it  so?" 

"Well,"  said  the  Judge,  in  a  puzzled  voice,  "you 
are  so  extreme  that  I  will  have  to  qualify  your 
statement." 

"It's  true,"  she  said,  grimly,  "you  'spises  me. 
That  makes  me  mad,  'cause  I  know  the  Lord  made 
us  both.  That  my  mother  has  taught  me,  an'  I 
believe  her.  The  Lord  loves  me  as  much  as  he  loves 
you,  but  that  don't  satisfy  me.  I'm  goin'  to  make 
you  love  me,  too." 

The  Judge  shuddered,  despite  himself.  This  little 
sharp-voiced,  bad-tempered,  ambitious,  plain-fea- 
tured specimen  of  humanity  was  extremely  repellent 
to  him.  It  was  really  an  act  of  Christian  charity 
on  his  part  to  sit  and  listen  to  her. 

But  he  must  subdue  his  dislike.  The  poor  little 
creature  was  unhappy.  If  he  sent  her  away  uncom- 
forted  and  unaided  he  would  have  a  sleepless  night. 
Happily  or  unhappily  for  himself,  he  had  so  hu- 


184  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

mored  his  conscience  through  life  that  he  was 
obliged  slavishly  to  obey  its  dictates  or  suffer  the 
consequences. 

Therefore  he  said,  kindly,  "What  other  object 
have  you  in  becoming  a  lady  besides  that  of  making 
men  stand  round?" 

"I  wants  to  help  my  mother,"  she  said,  solemnly, 
"an'  get  her  out  of  River  Street.  I  wants  a  little 
home  out  among  the  fields  for  her  where  the  'lectrics 
run  past  an'  she  can  come  in  town  fer  her  shoppin'. 
She's  a  faithful  mother,  sir;  she's  brought  us  up 
good." 

The  Judge's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Poor  little, 
weak,  frail  creature,  and  yet  not  weak,  for  a  noble 
spirit  animated  her  sickly  body. 

"Now  I  am  with  you,  my  girl,"  he  exclaimed. 
"Now  I  will  help  you,  for  this  aspiration  is  noble." 

The  touch  of  sympathy  caused  a  smile  to  break 
over  her  face.  "An*  the  children,  sir,"  she  said, 
"could  play.  There's  grass  out  there  where  they 
could  play.  There  aint  no  grass  on  River  Street." 

"Don't  they  play  in  the  park  that  Mrs.  Everest 
got  for  the  River  Street  children?" 

"O,  yes,  sir,  but  there  be  so  many  feet  an'  so 
little  grass.  It's  all  tramped  down  afore  it  has  time 
to  grow.  Now,  sir,  please  tell  me,  for  I  must  be 
goin',  what  is  the  fust  thing,  in  your  opinion,  to  be 
a  lady?" 

The  Judge  considered  a  minute,  then  he  said: 
"Let  us  take  your  call  in  sections.  When  you  came 
in  the  house  I  heard  your  voice  away  up  here  shrill 
and  insistent.  Now,  what  was  there  unladylike 
about  that?" 


A  CALL  FROM  AIRY  185 

"I  ought  to  V  spoke  low,"  she  said,  eagerly, 
"soft  an'  low." 

"A  real  lady  always  speaks  in  a  sweet  voice,  my 
child.  Don't  scream  when  talking." 

"The  real  ladies  did  that  when  they  come  a-shop- 
pin',"  she  replied.  "They  said,  'Please  show  me 
some  white  lace,'  jus'  as  soft  as  milk." 

"Then  take  that  as  your  first  rule,"  said  the  Judge. 
"Pitch  your  voice  low.  Next  I  would  say  that  your 
manner  was  aggressive  when  you  came  in." 

"An'  what  are  you  tryin'  to  give  me  there?"  she 
said,  quickly.  "What's  aggressive?" 

The  Judge  was  intensely  amused.  Her  words 
were  rude,  but  so  well  had  she  remembered  his  ad- 
vice that  her  voice  was  pitched  in  a  low,  almost  a 
sweet,  key. 

"Rule  two,"  he  observed,  "be  respectful.  Now, 
I  am  a  much  older  person  than  you.  You  should 
not  address  me  in  the  rude,  flippant  tone  in  which 
you  address  a  street  urchin.  But  I  am  perhaps 
wrong  here.  In  the  course  of  my  life  I  have  ob- 
served how  popular  are  the  persons  who  have 
respect  for  everyone — even  their  own  servants.  One 
human  being  has  no  right  to  treat  another  human 
being  with  disrespect.  Just  wait  a  minute  and  I  will 
give  you  an  object  lesson,"  and  getting  up  he  rang 
the  bell. 

Presently  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door. 

"You  hear  that?"  he  said  to  Airy.  "The  maid 
knocks  at  the  door  of  this  room  because  it  is  not  a 
public  but  a  private  room.  She  knocks  at  our  bed- 
room doors  also.  She  does  not  knock  at  the  dining 
room  or  the  parlor  door.  That  is  one  way  of  being 


1 86  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

respectful.  Now  see  how  politely  she  will  answer 
me  when  she  enters,"  and  he  said  in  a  clear  voice, 
"Come  in." 

Jennie  stepped  inside  and  stood  in  her  neat  gown 
and  white  apron  looking  expectantly  at  Tiim. 

"Has  a  parcel  come  for  me  this  evening  from  the 
druggist's?"  inquired  the  Judge. 

"Yes,  sir,  quite  a  large  parcel.  Would  you  like 
to  have  it  here  ?" 

"No,  thank  you ;  in  my  bedroom." 

"Very  well,  sir.    Is  that  all?" 

"Yes,  Jennie ;  but  no — go  to  the  sitting  room  and 
ask  Master  Dallas  to  come  here." 

"Certainly,  sir,"  and  with  a  pleasant  look  she 
closed  the  door  and  went  away. 

The  Judge  looked  at  Airy.  Her  lips  were  parted, 
her  eyes  were  intense. 

"Now  you  will  see  a  polite,  respectful  boy,"  he 
said,  and  at  that  instant  there  was  another  knock 
at  the  door. 

"Come  in,"  said  the  Judge,  and  Dallas  appeared. 

"My  boy,"  said  the  Judge,  "this  young  girl  is 
a  daughter  of  a  woman  who  was  very  kind  to 
Bethany." 

Dallas  turned  to  Airy  and  made  her  such  an  ex- 
quisite bow  that  she  caught  her  breath  and  gasped, 
"O,  my!" 

The  Judge  bit  his  lip.  "Miss  Airy  Tingsby  and 
Mr.  Dallas  de  Warren.  Now  you  will  know  each 
other  the  next  time  you  meet.  How  have  you 
been  getting  on  with  your  studies  this  evening, 
Dallas?" 

"Very  well,  sir,  though  perhaps  not  as  well  as 


A  CALL  FROM  AIRY  187 

usual,  on  account  of  the  Higby  affair.  It  amused 
Titus." 

"Will  you  give  Miss  Airy  an  account  of  it  ?"  said 
the  Judge.  "It  is  not  polite  for  two  persons  to  talk 
before  a  third  of  something  that  he  or  she  does  not 
understand." 

In  a  perfectly  calm  and  courteous  way  Dallas, 
without  appearing  to  notice  that  his  new  acquaint- 
ance belonged  to  one  of  the  poorest  classes  in  soci- 
ety, gave  her  an  account  of  the  unfortunate  Higby's 
fright. 

Airy  hung  on  his  words  in  entranced  silence. 
Never  before  in  her  young  life  had  anyone  addressed 
her  with  so  much  deference.  A  delightful  sensation 
ran  through  her  veins.  She  could  have  sat  till  mid- 
night listening  to  that  mellifluous  voice. 

"And  now  we  must  not  keep  you,"  said  the  Judge, 
when  Dallas,  having  finished  his  recital,  turned  to 
him.  "By  the  way,  though,  what  are  you  reading 
in  Latin  just  now  ?" 

"The  first  book  of  the  ^Eneid,  sir." 

"You  find  it  interesting?" 

"Intensely  so,  sir.  JEneas  had  so  many  adven- 
tures." 

"This  young  girl  is  also  studying  Latin,"  said  the 
Judge.  "Airy,  can  you  decline  mensa  for  Dallas?" 

In  a  low,  gentle  voice,  and  with  a  manner  so  full 
of  caution  that  it  was  almost  terrified,  Airy  got 
through  her  task  with  credit  to  herself  and  her 
friend.  Dallas  listened  politely  and  showed  not  a 
sign  of  a  smile.  * 

After  she  finished  he  thanked  her,  and  then  turned 
to  the  Judge  again,  who  dismissed  him  by  a  smile. 


1 88  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"I  will  say  good-night,  sir,"  said  Dallas,  "then  I 
will  not  need  to  disturb  you  later  on." 

"Very  well,  good-night,"  and  the  Judge  extended 
a  hand. 

Dallas  shook  hands  with  him,  bowed  to  Airy,  and 
left  the  room. 

The  little  girl  drew  a  long  breath  and  rose  to  her 
feet.  "I've  had  enough  for  to-night.  Sir,  if  ever 
I  get  rich  and  you  get  poor,  just  you  come  to  me  an' 
I'll  help  you." 

The  Judge  smiled  mournfully.  Poor  child — how 
easy  to  bridge  the  gulf  between  them  by  words,  and 
yet  she  was  an  apt  pupil. 

"You  are  a  little  girl  to  be  out  alone  in  the  even- 
ing," he  said.  "By  the  way,  how  old  are  you?" 

"Thirteen,  sir;  'most  fourteen." 

"How  are  you  going  to  get  home?" 

"Some  one  is  waitin'  for  me,  sir,  across  the  street. 
He's  a  boy  does  odd  jobs  for  us.  When  can  I  come 
agin,  sir?"  she  went  on,  eagerly. 

"When  would  you  like  to  come  ?" 

"Say  this  night  week,  sir.  I'll  hev  to  shine  up  my 
manners  till  then.  My !  but  it'll  be  hard  not  to  yell 
in  River  Street.  It's  easy  enough  to  be  soft  here, 
'cause  you've  no  one  to  yell  at  you." 

"This  night  week,  then,"  replied  the  Judge; 
"good-bye." 

"Good-bye,  sir,"  and  to  his  amusement  she  awk- 
wardly shook  hands  with  him,  then  darted  from  the 
room  like  a  bird. 

"I'll  have  to  teach  her  to  go  slowly  next  lesson," 
said  the  Judge,  with  a  smile,  and  leisurely  stepping 
into  the  hall  he  looked  out  of  the  window. 


A  CALL  FROM  AIRY  189 

Airy  was  just  joining  her  escort,  or  escorts,  for 
there  were  two.  To  the  Judge's  dismay  the  electric 
light  across  the  street  shone  full  on  the  faces  of 
Brick,  the  colored  boy,  and  the  spotted  dog. 

Both  had  probably  spent  the  last  hour  in  front 
of  his  house,  and  Bethany  was  only  a  few  steps 
away.  Suppose  she  had  gone  to  the  window;  and 
retracing  his  steps  the  Judge  went  into  his  study 
and  sitting  down  began  to  think  over  the  visit  he 
had  just  had. 

The  tablecloth  waving  violently  attracted  his  at- 
tention. "Hello,  little  girl,"  he  said,  affectionately, 
"come  out.  Daddy  Grandpa  is  alone." 

There  was  no  response  beyond  a  continuance  of 
low  growling. 

The  Judge  had  made  a  mistake.  It  was  not  Beth- 
any under  the  table ;  it  was  Bylow. 

"Good  dog,"  he  said,  "come  here." 

She  immediately  crawled  out  on  all  fours,  snap- 
ping and  snarling  at  every  object  she  passed,  and 
accompanied  by  Sukey,  who  also  was  in  a  bad  tem- 
per and  pecked  at  everything  near  her. 

On  Bethany's  way  to  the  Judge  she  suddenly 
caught  sight  of  a  piece  of  wrapping  paper  that  had 
come  round  a  book  and  had  fallen  to  the  floor. 
Seizing  it  in  her  hands,  she  tore  it  to  pieces.  The 
Judge  thought  that  her  small  teeth  also  aided  in 
the  work  of  destruction.  Not  till  the  paper  was 
in  ribbons,  and  she  herself  was  damp  with  perspira- 
tion from  the  violence  of  her  emotion,  did  she  give 
up  her  dog  incarnation  and  become  demure  little 
Bethany  again. 

The  Judge  stared.    He  had  never  seen  her  in  a 


190  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

rage  before.  However,  she  was  quite  self-possessed 
now,  and  putting  the  grumbling  pigeon  in  her  basket 
and  seating  herself  beside  her  she  began  softly  to 
stroke  and  smooth  her  disturbed  feathered  friend. 

After  a  time  she  addressed  a  gentle  remark  to  the 
Judge  over  her  shoulder.  "So  you  have  had  'Airy 
Mary,  so  contrary,'  here  this  evening?" 

"Yes,  I  have,"  he  returned.  "Why  did  you  not 
stay  out  and  see  her;  don't  you  like  her?" 

"Airy  once  slapped  Bethany,"  she  remarked,  med- 
itatively. 

The  Judge  made  no  reply.  Evidently  the  two 
girls  were  not  affinities. 

"Annie  never  slapped  Bethany,"  the  child  pres- 
ently remarked. 

Annie,  the  Judge  knew,  was  Mrs.  Tingsby's  sec- 
ond daughter.  However,  once  more  he  did  not  feel 
called  upon  to  give  an  expression  of  opinion,  and 
Bethany  went  on :  "To-night  week  I  shall  go  to  the 
country  with  Ellen  and  Susie." 

The  Judge  rang  the  bell.  "Jennie,"  he  said,  when 
the  parlor  maid  appeared,  "here  is  a  little  girl  that 
wants  to  go  to  bed." 

Bethany  got  up  sweetly.  She  kissed  Sukey  good- 
night, then  she  went  to  the  Judge  and  threw  her 
arms  round  his  neck.  "Good-night,  dear  Daddy 
Grandpa." 

"Good-night,  my  child,"  he  responded,  and  as  he 
spoke  he  felt  how  dear  indeed  the  little  affectionate, 
jealous  creature  had  become  to  him. 

She  seemed  to  part  from  him  with  reluctance. 
However,  she  took  Jennie's  hand  agreeably  enough, 
but  in  the  doorway  she  turned  and  fired  a  parting 


A  CALL  FROM  AIRY  191 

shot  that  immensely  amused  the  unfortunate  man 
attacked. 

"Daddy  Grandpa,"  she  said,  sternly,  "ladies  is 
born,  not  made,"  then  she  disappeared  with  Jennie. 

The  Judge  sat  down  in  his  big  chair,  alone  at 
last  with  what  remnant  of  calm  these  children  had 
left  him.  Which  was  the  more  remarkable,  Beth- 
any or  Airy?  Bethany  with  her  queer,  old-fash- 
ioned, precocious,  yet  strangely  childlike  ways,  or 
the  bitter,  repellent  Airy? 

How  strange  that  through  his  life  he  had  heard 
so  little  about  child  study!  He  must  find  out  what 
books  there  were  on  the  subject.  However,  books 
or  no  books,  these  children  bade  fair  to  make  a 
psychologist  of  him. 


CHAPTER  XV 
A  DRIVE  WITH  THE  JUDGE 

A  FEW  days  later  the  Judge  stood  at  the  foot  of 
the  staircase  leading  up  to  the  children's  rooms  and 
inwardly  wondered. 

Bethany  was  kneeling  down  on  the  top  step.  "O, 
Lord,  forgive  me  for  what  I  am  about  to  do,"  she 
prayed,  piously;  then  she  unclasped  her  hands  and 
took  in  them  a  crumpled  handkerchief. 

The  Judge  still  stared.  She  had  her  dress  pinned 
up,  a  towel  fastened  round  her  waist,  sleeves  rolled 
back,  and  beside  her  on  the  step  a  little  tin  can  and 
a  cake  of  Hittaker's  soap. 

What  was  she  going  to  do  ?  and  the  Judge  waited. 

She  was  washing  down  the  steps,  and  as  she 
washed  she  softly  sang  to  herself  a  homemade  ditty : 

"Ellen  and  Susie  they're  with  me  right  here; 
Wash  little  maid,  wash  the  steppies  so  clear, 
Wash  for  the  Judge,  and  for  Titus  the  boy, 
So  will  you  fill  their  dear  hearts  with  joy." 

"She  is  cleaning  the  steps,"  said  the  Judge  to 
himself,  "and  is  enjoying  it.  Mrs.  Blodgett  has 
probably  gone  downtown,  and  after  asking  the  Lord 
to  forgive  her  she  has  yielded  to  temptation.  It 
would  be  a  shame  to  interrupt,  seeing  she  enjoys  it 
so  much,"  and  with  a  broad  smile  on  his  face  he  sat 
down  on  the  lowest  step  and  waited. 

As  Bethany  was  coming  down  backward  she  did 


A  DRIVE  WITH  THE  JUDGE  193 

not  see  him  until  her  hand,  going  out  sideways,  de- 
posited the  tin  pail  on  his  knees. 

"O !"  she  exclaimed,  and  giving  a  great  start  she 
straightened  herself. 

There  were  beads  of  perspiration  on  her  forehead 
and  upper  lip,  and  her  cheeks  were  flushed. 

"There !"  she  said  at  last,  and  she  gazed  compos- 
edly at  the  Judge,  "I  knew  Satan  would  catch  me." 

"Thank  you,"  he  replied,  quietly. 

"O,  Daddy  Grandpa,"  she  cried,  repentantly, 
"you  don't  think  I  meant  you — " 

"What  are  you  doing?"  he  asked,  disregarding 
her  question. 

"Well,"  she  said,  wearily,  "I  saw  a  little  dust  on 
these  steps  at  lunch  time,  and  I've  been  just  crazy 
to  wash  them,  just  crazy." 

"What  have  you  been  doing  it  with  ?"  he  inquired. 

She  uncurled  her  hand,  and  showed  the  wet, 
crumpled  handkerchief.  "It's  a  very  old  one,"  she 
said,  anxiously,  "quite  full  of  holes.  I  hadn't  any 
cloth  to  dry  the  steps,  so  I  just  blew  softly  as  I 
sang — I  s'pose  I've  got  to  be  punished,"  she  said, 
miserably. 

"Let  me  see  first  how  you  have  done  them,"  said 
the  Judge,  trying  to  speak  sternly,  and  getting  up 
he  walked  to  the  top  of  the  staircase. 

The  child  had  done  her  work  thoroughly.  There 
was  not  a  particle  of  dust  to  be  seen.  Every  square 
inch  not  covered  by  carpet  had  been  carefully 
cleaned. 

"Well,"  he  said,  as  he  slowly  came  downstairs, 
"for  punishment  I  order  you  to  wash  them  down 
each  day  until  further  orders." 


194  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

She  gave  him  a  roguish  smile.  "Now,  Daddy 
Grandpa,  you  know  that  is  no  punishment.  You  are 
just  pretending." 

"Well,"  he  went  on,  "as  that  would  be  no  punish- 
ishment,  I  order  you  for  work,  or  play,  or  what- 
ever you  call  it,  to  wash  these  steps  down  once  a 
week,  and  for  penalty  you  will  not  be  allowed  to  go 
for  a  drive  with  me  for  three  days." 

Her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  "Three  days,  Daddy 
Grandpa — not  two,  not  one?" 

"No,  three,"  he  said,  decidedly,  "three  whole 
days." 

She  wiped  her  eyes  with  the  towel  about  her  waist. 
"The  time  will  seem  long,  but  I  deserve  it.  I  was 
very  bad.  Mrs.  Blodgett  has  gone  shopping,  and  I 
thought  that  you  were  asleep,  and  Satan  tempted 
me.  I  thought  he  was  laying  a  trap,  but  I  gave  in 
to  him." 

"Bethany,"  said  the  Judge,  kindly,  "you  were 
wrong  to  do  what  was  forbidden,  but  since  you  enjoy 
a  little  housework  I  will  get  Mrs.  Blodgett  to  relax 
that  rule,  and  give  you  some  easy  things  to  do." 

"Daddy  Grandpa,"  she  said,  seizing  one  of  his 
large  white  hands  and  pressing  it  to  her  lips,  "if 
you  had  wings  you'd  be  an  angel." 

He  smiled  amiably,  and  went  to  get  ready  for  his 
drive. 

"O,  little  pail,"  said  Bethany,  seizing  the  tin,  "O, 
little  pail,  I  am  glad  he  did  not  take  you  from  me. 
I  was  afraid  that  would  be  my  punishment." 

"What  are  you  talking  about  up  there  ?"  inquired 
the  Judge  from  the  hall  below,  where  he  was  put- 
ting on  his  coat. 


A  DRIVE  WITH  THE  JUDGE  195 

Bethany  took  a  few  steps  forward  and  put  her 
head  over  the  balusters. 

"I  was  just  telling  Bobby  that  I  am  glad  you  did 
not  take  him  from  me." 

"And  who  is  Bobby?" 

"Bobby  is  one  of  the  little  pails  we  used  to  get  our 
butter  in.  You  know  that  poor  people  do  not  eat 
the  kind  of  butter  that  you  do,  Daddy  Grandpa. 
Ours  was  whiter,  and  it  did  not  taste  like  Cloverdale 
butter.  When  we  went  to  the  grocer's  I  always  said 
we  were  going  to  buy  a  Bobby  of  butter." 

The  Judge  made  no  remark,  but  he  wrinkled  his 
forehead  as  he  went  to  the  hall  door. 

"A  fowl  in  the  pot  for  every  man  on  Sunday,"  a 
good  French  king  is  reported  to  have  said,  and 
"Cloverdale  butter  for  every  citizen  in  Riverport," 
the  good  Judge  wished  in  his  heart. 

He  had  a  lonely  drive.  How  much  he  enjoyed 
having  the  little  prattler  by  his  side!  for  Bethany 
talked  a  good  deal  when  she  was  out  with  him. 
There  were  so  many  objects  of  interest  to  inquire 
about,  and  having  perfect  confidence  in  him  she 
never  failed  to  extend  her  fund  of  knowledge  when 
with  him.  Poor  little  gropers  after  truth!  How 
much  the  children  had  to  learn !  How  many  ques- 
tions they  must  ask  of  the,  to  them,  omniscient 
grown-up  ones,  before  they  were  sufficiently 
equipped  for  the  battle  of  life! 

On  the  second  day  of  Bethany's  punishment  the 
Judge,  as  he  was  going  down  to  the  sleigh,  met 
Dallas  on  the  front  steps. 

"It  is  a  beautiful  day,"  he  said ;  "don't  you  want 
to  come  for  a  drive?" 


196  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

A  flush  of  pleasure  crept  over  the  boy's  face. 

"Yes,  sir,  very  much;  will  you  be  good  enough 
to  wait  till  I  put  these  books  in  the  house  ?" 

The  Judge  nodded,  and  Dallas  ran  into  the 
house. 

"How  is  it  that  you  carry  books?"  inquired  the 
Judge  when  he  came  out.  "I  never  see  Titus  with 
any." 

"He  has  a  set  at  home  and  one  in  school,"  said 
Dallas,  quietly,  as  they  got  into  the  sleigh. 

"And  why  have  not  you  the  same  ?" 

"I  thought,  sir,  that  it  was  sufficient  for  you  to 
buy  me  one  set.  I  carry  mine." 

The  Judge  was  touched  by  this  mark  of  the  boy's 
thoughtfulness,  and  for  a  few  minutes  he  said  noth- 
ing. Then  he  turned  round.  "Buy  another  lot — 
have  just  what  Titus  has." 

Dallas  gave  him  a  peculiar  glance.  It  certainly 
was  not  an  ungrateful  one. 

The  Judge  gazed  at  him  more  steadfastly.  How 
well  the  boy  looked  in  his  heavy  black  coat  and  dark 
fur  cap!  He  was  stouter,  too,  than  when  he  came. 
Already  good  living  and  freedom  from  care  were 
beginning  to  show  a  favorable  influence  upon  him. 
But  what  about  the  soul?  And  the  Judge  peered 
more  earnestly  than  ever  at  him.  A  good  outside 
was  a  fine  thing,  but  the  inner  things  of  the  heart 
were  what  counted,  and  the  elderly  man  made  up 
his  mind  to  ask  a  few  questions.  However,  at  first 
he  learned  all  he  could  from  the  exterior. 

The  boy  sat  beside  him  very  quietly,  but  his  face 
was  proud.  "Now  that  I  think  of  it,"  reflected  the 
Judge,  "this  is  his  first  appearance  in  public  with  me. 


A  DRIVE  WITH  THE  JUDGE  197 

This  doffing  of  hats  and  bowing  from  well  dressed 
people  flatters  his  boyish  vanity." 

"Dallas,"  he  said,  aloud,  "would  you  like  to  be 
popular?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  he  replied,  with  a  smile. 

"And  rich?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"Do  you  believe  that  riches  bring  happiness?" 

"No,  sir." 

"What  do  you  want  to  be  in  life?  Have  you 
chosen  a  calling — a  profession?" 

The  boy  gave  him  a  hesitating  glance,  and  the 
Judge  delicately  changed  his  question.  "Have  you 
ever  thought  of  being  an  actor,  as  your  father 
was?" 

The  boy  shuddered.    "O,  no,  no!" 

"Why  not?  Don't  you  approve  of  the  profes- 
sion?" 

Dallas  hesitated  a  minute,  then  he  said,  "It's  not 
bad  for  those  who  get  on ;  it's  awful  for  those  who 
don't." 

"Would  you  put  your  father  in  the  latter  class  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,  but  in  this  way  only.  He  had  poor 
health.  If  he  had  been  strong  he  would  have  made 
his  mark.  He  had  brains  and  application  enough  to 
succeed.  With  his  last  breath  he  begged  me  not  to 
follow  his  profession.  Even  if  I  wished  to  do  so, 
that  would  keep  me  from  it." 

The  Judge  made  no  comment,  and  presently  Dal- 
las went  on:  "I  have  been  behind  the  scenes,  sir. 
I  suppose  the  public  must  have  theaters,  but  they're 
hard  on  girls  and  young  men." 

"In  what  way  ?"  asked  the  Judge,  quietly. 


198  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"Well,  sir,"  said  the  boy,  bitterly,  "when  a  person 
goes  on  the  stage  his  or  her  home  goes  to  smash." 

The  Judge  made  no  reply,  and  Dallas  went  on 
with  animation:  "If  I  had  my  way,  I'd  have  no 
army,  no  navy,  no  anything  that  took  men  out  of 
their  homes.  I  suppose  you've  always  had  a  home, 
sir." 

The  Judge  smiled. 

"Then  you  don't  know  what  it  is  to  live  in  a 
boarding  house — to  share  everything  in  common 
with  people  that  you  often  despise.  Why,  sir,  when 
I  come  home  from  school  and  go  upstairs  to  that 
little  sitting  room  where  Titus  and  I  study,  and  shut 
the  door,  and  feel  that  it  is  ours,  I  am  in  paradise." 

"But  you  have  to  come  downstairs  and  eat  and 
drink  with  the  family,"  said  the  Judge,  in  amuse- 
ment. 

"Ah!"  said  the  boy,  with  his  handsome  face 
aglow,  "but  you  are  my  own  people  now.  I  like  to 
be  with  you." 

"Dallas,"  said  the  Judge,  abruptly,  "tell  me  what 
you  would  like  to  be  when  you  become  a  man." 

The  boy  grew  somewhat  less  animated.  "You 
won't  be  vexed  with  me  for  being  too  ambitious?" 
he  said,  hesitatingly. 

"Not  unless  you  aspire  to  the  Presidency." 

"Sir,  I  do  not  aspire  to  that,  but  I  do  wish  to  be 
a  doctor." 

"Ah!  to  study  medicine — you  are  fond  of  your 
books.  I  see  that." 

"The  only  thing  that  troubles  me,"  continued 
Dallas,  with  some  embarrassment,  "is  that  one's 
studies  are  long  and  expensive.  I  feel  that  I  ought 


A  DRIVE  WITH  THE  JUDGE  199 

to  choose  something  like  a  clerkship,  so  I  should  not 
be  so  long  a  burden  on  you." 

"You  shall  be  a  doctor,"  said  the  Judge,  promptly. 
"You  have  done  well  to  speak  your  mind  frankly 
and  honestly.  How  old  are  you  now?" 

"Sixteen,  sir." 

"Just  two  years  older  than  Titus,  though  you  are 
much  taller.  It  is  well  for  a  boy  to  choose  his 
vocation  in  life  as  early  as  possible.  Then  he  can 
prepare  for  it.  You  know  what  Titus  wishes  to  be  ?" 

"Yes,  sir — a  farmer." 

"I  can't  gainsay  him.  T  believe  in  getting  back 
to  the  soil.  He  wants  a  stock  farm,  and  already  I 
am  beginning  to  get  things  in  shape  for  him.  Rob- 
lee,"  and  the  Judge  spoke  to  the  coachman,  "drive 
out  toward  Cloverdale." 

"I  have  bought  a  hundred  and  fifty  acres  of  land," 
the  Judge  continued,  "and  have  a  young  man  in 
charge.  We  have  not  time  to  go  all  the  way  there 
to-day,  but  you  will  see  in  what  direction  it  is.  Have 
you  been  out  this  way  before  ?" 

"No,  sir." 

"Have  you  not  been  driving  at  all  since  you  came 
to  Riverport?" 

"No,  sir." 
.  "How  is  that?" 

"Well,  Titus  does  not  care  for  driving,  as  you 
know,  and  I  did  not  care  to  ask." 

"But  you  like  it?" 

"Indeed  I  do,"  he  said,  earnestly. 

"Then  you  must  often  come  with  me  and  Beth- 
any. Poor  little  soul,  she  is  doing  penance  to-day." 

"Yes,  I  saw  her  going  for  a  walk  with  Jennie, 


2OO  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

with  a  very  downcast  face,'*  said  Dallas  with  a  slight 
smile.  Then  he  fell  into  a  reverie. 

What  a  happy  boy  he  was !  What  good  fortune 
had  been  his  when  he  fell  into  the  hands  of  this 
kind,  agreeable,  yet  strong  man!  How  much  he 
admired  him!  and  he  stole  a  glance  at  the  Judge's 
quiet  face. 

They  were  gliding  along  over  a  country  road  now. 
How  comfortable  they  were  in  their  luxurious  fur- 
lined  seat,  with  warm  robes  over  them,  and  their 
feet  on  the  Judge's  long  foot-warmer!  The  sleigh 
was  an  open  one,  and  on  each  side  of  them,  and 
before  and  behind,  they  had  an  uninterrupted  view 
of  a  beautiful,  snow-covered  country. 

Occasionally  they  met  a  farmer  jogging  along 
on  his  wood-sled,  or  going  swiftly  in  a  single-seated 
sleigh  behind  a  substantial,  heavy-footed  country 
horse.  There  were  also  a  few  sleighs  from  the  city. 

Everybody  knew  the  Judge,  and  if  a  lady  bowed 
to  him  Dallas,  in  suppressed  delight,  also  saluted 
her  by  touching  his  fur  cap.  How  he  enjoyed  recog- 
nition !  When  he  was  a  man  he  would  wish  for  no 
better  enjoyment  than  this — to  drive  along  the 
street  and  have  everyone  greet  him  with  respect. 
But  he  must  work  hard  for  it  at  first,  and  he  cast 
a  side  glance  at  the  Judge's  white  head.  Charlie 
Brown  had  told  him  that  the  Judge  as  a  young  man 
had  worked  like  a  slave  to  master  the  intricacies  of 
commercial  law,  bankruptcy  law,  international  law, 
criminal  law,  and  many  other  kinds  of  law  that 
Dallas  could  not  remember.  He  would  work,  too, 
and  he  set  his  young  mouth  firmly  and  looked 
straight  ahead. 


A  DRIVE  WITH  THE  JUDGE  201 

The  Judge  was  murmuring,  "God  made  the  coun- 
try and  man  made  the  town";  then  he  said  aloud, 
"Just  look  at  the  sun  behind  that  grove  of  spruces, 
Dallas." 

"Beautiful!"  said  the  boy,  and  then  the  Judge, 
taking  out  his  watch,  said  regretfully,  "We  must 
turn.  Home,  Roblee." 

They  scarcely  spoke  until  they  reached  Grand 
Avenue.  When  they  were  slipping  past  the  fine 
houses  that  bordered  it  Dallas  turned  to  the  Judge. 
"I  thank  you,  sir,  for  this  drive.  I  have  enjoyed 
it  immensely." 

The  Judge's  keen  eyes  sought  his  face.  "My 
boy,"  he  said,  kindly,  and  he  stretched  out  one  of 
his  fur-clad  hands  and  laid  it  on  Dallas's  knee, 
"you  must  often  accompany  me  and  the  little  girl 
on  our  daily  drives." 

The  Judge's  benevolent  face  was  luminous  in  the 
setting  sun.  He  was  proving  himself  to  be  a  real 
father  to  the  boy.  Something  choked  in  Dallas's 
throat.  He  bent  his  head  lower,  lower,  till  a  sudden 
ecstasy  made  him  seize  the  Judge's  hand  and  press 
it  warmly  in  his  own. 

"Just  look  at  that  new  boy  of  the  Judge's,"  ex- 
claimed Charlie  Brown's  mother  as  she  stood  at  one 
of  the  upper  windows  of  the  house,  staring  at  the 
Judge  in  adoration.  "What  is  it  about  that  man  that 
makes  everyone  like  him?" 

"Good  temper,"  growled  her  rather  short-tem- 
pered spouse,  who  was  sitting  near  her,  his  head 
buried  in  a  newspaper. 

Dallas's  first  drive  with  the  Judge  was  on  the 
first  day  of  Bethany's  punishment;  his  second  one 


2O2  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

was  on  the  second  day  of  retribution,  and  his  third 
was  on  the  day  rendered  ever  memorable  to  the 
Judge  by  the  fulfillment  of  one  of  his  worst  fears. 
He  wished,  but  too  late,  that  Bethany  had  had  no 
punishment,  that  he  had  forgiven  the  sin  of  step- 
washing,  and  had  taken  her  with  himself  and  Dallas. 


CHAPTER  XVI 
THE  SPOTTED  DOG  AGAIN 

THE  Judge  and  the  boy  were  just  arriving  gayly 
home  from  a  most  enjoyable  drive.  They  had  been 
driving,  not  in  the  direction  of  Cloverdale,  but  away 
down  the  frozen  river  as  it  silently  wound  toward 
the  sea. 

Dallas  had  sprung  out  of  the  sleigh,  and  was 
standing  respectfully  aside  waiting  for  the  Judge  to 
alight,  when  the  big  hall  door  flew  open  and  little 
Bethany  appeared,  being  held  back,  however,  by  the 
protesting  Jennie. 

Her  face  was  absolutely  beatific,  and  she  called 
out  clearly,  "O,  Daddy  Grandpa,  I've  got  the  joy- 
fullest  surprise  for  you !" 

The  Judge,  with  an  affectionate  glance  at  her, 
began  to  ascend  the  steps  in  his  usual  dignified  way. 

"Now  I  have  something  to  thank  Satan  for,"  con- 
tinued Bethany,  dancing  in  Jennie's  resolute  grasp. 
"Now  I  could  almost  love  the  naughty  creature." 

The  Judge  had  reached  her  now,  and  she  broke 
away  from  Jennie  and  clung  to  him.  "I  missed 
my  drives  most  dreadfully.  Jennie  took  me  for  a 
walk  the  day  before  yesterday,  Jennie  took  me  for  a 
walk  yesterday,  Jennie  took  me  for  a  walk  to-day, 
and  what  do  you  think  I  found?" 

"Come  inside,  child,  come  inside;  you  will  take 
cold,"  said  the  Judge,  and  he  motioned  to  Jennie  to 
close  the  big  front  door. 


2O4  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"There  they  are — what  I  found,"  screamed  Beth- 
any. "O,  I  am  a  thankful  little  girl  to  Satan  for 
tempting  me  that  day,  'cause  if  he  hadn't  tempted 
me  I'd  not  have  walked  with  Jennie,  and  if  I 
hadn't  walked  with  Jennie  I'd  never  have  found 
my  sweet  colored  boy  and  my  precious,  precious 
Bylow." 

The  Judge  groaned  inwardly.  Sure  enough,  in 
the  middle  of  the  hall  stood  the  grinning  colored 
boy  and  the  ugly  yellow  spotted  dog. 

The  Judge  preserved  a  calm  exterior,  though  the 
colored  boy  called  warningly,  "Keep  back,  sah — 
you's  got  on  a  good  coat,  and  he  do  hate  fine  cloes. 
I'll  hang  on  to  him,"  and  with  might  and  main  he 
pulled  back  on  the  dirty  brown  strap  about  the  dog's 
neck. 

Dallas,  not  as  wary  as  the  Judge,  went  nearer, 
and  was  saluted  by  a  snap  from  the  dog's  powerful 
jaws  that  made  him  jump  in  the  air. 

"O,  Bylow,  Bylow!"  cried  Bethany,  in  dismay, 
and  to  the  Judge's  great  disapprobation  she  threw 
her  arms  round  the  snapping  dog.  "My  precious 
dog,  you  must  not  be  so  bad." 

The  dog  put  out  a  long  red  tongue  and  lapped 
her  forehead. 

"Bethany,"  said  the  Judge,  "come  here." 

"O,  Daddy  Grandpa!"  she  exclaimed,  fairly 
throwing  herself  at  him.  "Bethany  is  'most  dead 
with  joy,  and  I  knew  you'd  be  dead,  too." 

In  face  of  so  much  enthusiasm  and  such  perfect 
trust  in  his  hearty  cooperation,  the  Judge  felt  that 
it  would  be  very  hard  to  disappoint  the  child,  but 
he  was  firm  on  the  subject  of  vicious  animals. 


In  the  middle  of  the  hall  stood  the  grinning  colored  boy 
and  the  ugly  yellow  spotted  dog." 


THE  SPOTTED  DOG  AGAIN  205 

"Boy,"  he  said  to  the  grinning  Brick,  "what  is 
the  matter  with  that  dog?" 

"Your  does,  sah — turn  your  coat,  sah,  jes'  for 
fun — you'll  not  see  no  teeth,  sah.  He'll  jus'  love 
you.  Look-y-here — "  and  he  pointed  to  a  most  dis- 
reputable-looking figure  descending  the  staircase 
from  the  floor  above. 

The  Judge  somewhat  helplessly  took  off  his  heavy 
coat  and  threw  it  over  a  chair.  These  children 
were  turning  his  house  upside  down.  That  was  a 
tramp  coming  downstairs — a  tramp,  pure  and  sim- 
ple. But  what  was  it — a  snicker  from  young  Jennie 
notified  him  that  there  was  mystery  afoot. 

The  supposed  tramp  was  apparently  youthful, 
but  his  rags  were  so  clean  and  evidently  so  freshly 
made  that  the  Judge  became  suspicious,  and  then 
that  smooth,  dark  young  chin  and  the  red  lips  under 
the  battered  hat — surely  they  belonged  to  his  grand- 
son Titus.  The  old  bathrobe,  too,  he  thought  he  rec- 
ognized as  one  of  his  own.  What  nonsense  was  this  ? 

Bethany  was  laughing  and  clapping  her  hands, 
Dallas  was  giggling,  and  Brick  was  grinning  more 
alarmingly  than  ever.  "Come  on,  young  sah — he'll 
jus'  eat  you  up  wid  kindness — no  feah  in  dat  dress. 
Come  on,  come  on — I'se  loosin'  him,"  and  he  let  the 
dog  go. 

The  creature  with  the  hideous  yellow  spots  actu- 
ally ran  toward  Titus  with  his  mouth  open,  but 
instead  of  devouring  him  he  fawned  on  him,  licked 
him,  and  soon  was  romping  all  over  the  hall  with 
him. 

"Titus,"  said  his  grandfather,  "stop  this  noise 
and  explain  your  actions  to  me." 


206  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Titus  drew  up  in  front  of  him,  and,  still  holding 
the  dog,  who  was  playfully  biting  at  his  ringers, 
gave  his  old  hat  a  blow  that  sent  it  spinning  into 
a  corner  of  the  hall.  Then  he  said  breathlessly, 
"This  is  the  queerest  dog  you  ever  saw,  grandfather. 
He  hates  well  dressed  people.  When  he  came  he 
ripped  down  the  seam  of  my  trousers.  Brick  told 
me  to  go  and  dress  up  like  a  tramp,  and  see  the 
difference.  You  know  Brick  has  been  a  tramp's 
boy." 

"A  what?"  inquired  the  Judge. 

"A  boy  that  goes  about  with  a  tramp — you've 
heard  of  them,  grandfather.  He  waits  on  the 
tramp.  Bylow  went  with  him,  and  he  hates  well 
dressed  people  and  nice  houses." 

"Then  his  place  is  plainly  not  here,"  observed 
the  Judge,  but  under  his  breath,  for  fear  of  Beth- 
any, who  was  now  ecstatically  smoothing  the  col- 
ored boy's  coat  and  sleeve. 

"So  your  name  is  Brick,"  he  said,  addressing  the 
stranger. 

"Yes,  sah,"  and  Brick  showed  every  tooth  in  his 
head. 

His  color  was  indeed  somewhat  brickish.  The 
Judge  had  never  seen  a  colored  boy  of  just  this 
shade  before,  and  he  suspected  keenly  that  he  had 
not  been  washed  for  some  time. 

"You  like  this  little  girl?"  he  said,  indicating 
Bethany. 

"She  nice  little  girl,  sah,"  responded  the  boy, 
opening  his  mouth  so  alarmingly  wide  that  the 
Judge  saw  not  only  his  whole  stock  of  teeth,  but 
such  an  expanse  of  pink  gums,  tongue,  and  throat 


THE  SPOTTED  DOG  AGAIN  207 

that  he  gazed  at  them  in  mild  fascination.     His 
words  were  fairly  swallowed  up  in  this  pink  gulf. 

"She  nice  little  girl,"  Brick  continued.  "She 
good  to  dogs  an'  cats.  I  like  dogs  meself.  Me  an' 
Bylow's  great  friends,"  and  he  nodded  toward  the 
dog,  which  had  calmed  down  and  was  lying  at  his 
feet  panting  and  with  half-shut  eyes. 

"Daddy  Grandpa,"  said  Bethany,  in  sudden 
anxiety,  "where  are  they  going  to  sleep  ?  O,  where 
are  they  going  to  sleep?" 

The  Judge  put  up  a  hand  and  vigorously  stroked 
his  mustache.  He  knew  Bethany's  generous  heart 
prompted  her  to  wish  for  them  the  best  in  the  house. 

"Well,"  he  replied,  kindly,  "we're  pretty  well 
filled  up  inside,  but  there's  a  good  room  out  in  the 
stable  opposite  Roblee's." 

"Daddy  Grandpa,"  she  said,  timidly,  "there's 
the  big  spare  room — the  blue  velvet  room  with  the 
gilt  furniture." 

"My  friend  Colonel  Hansom  is  to  occupy  that 
next  week,"  said  the  Judge.  "It  would  be  awk- 
ward to  turn  out  the  boy  for  him." 

Brick  was  exploding  with  laughter.  He  was  a 
good  deal  older  than  Bethany  and  appreciated  the 
situation  perfectly. 

"I  guess  we's  all  right  in  the  stable,  missie,"  he 
said,  with  a  snicker.  "Bylow  an'  me's  used  to  sleep- 
in'  with  hosses.  Then  we  can  guard  you  when  the 
bogies  come  about.  There's  lots  of  bogies  these 
days,"  and  his  eyes  grew  round,  and  he  rolled  them 
wildly  to  and  fro. 

"Did  you  see  many  out  West?"  asked  the  little 
girl,  in  an  awestruck  voice. 


208  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"The  air  was  thick  with  'em,  missie.  They  jus' 
called  me  an'  Bylow  till  we  didn't  know  which  way 
fer  to  go." 

"Help!  Help!  Mum-mum-murder!"  yelled  a 
sudden  voice. 

"Blow  that  'ere,  Bylow !"  muttered  Brick,  and  he 
made  a  dart  for  the  back  stairway.  "If  he  aint 
sneaked  away!" 

Titus  and  Dallas  dashed  after  him,  while  little 
Bethany,  twisting  her  tiny  hands  in  dismay,  brought 
up  the  rear  with  the  Judge. 

"It's  Higby,"  she  said,  tearfully.  "I  told  Titus 
to  tell  him  to  put  on  old  clothes.  I  suppose  Titus 
forgot.  O,  dear,  dear!" 

"Mum-mum-murder,"  went  on  the  voice,  "help; 
there's  something  caught  m-m-me  behind.  M-m- 
missis  Blodgett!  Girls!" 

"We're  coming,"  called  Titus,  at  the  top  of  the 
stairway;  "hold  on." 

"Ca-ca-catch  the  dishes,  some  one,"  wailed  Hig- 
by. "O !  law — law — law  me !  There  they  go !" 

There  was  a  terrible  clatter  of  falling  china,  and 
then  Higby's  voice  rose  higher  and  shriller  than 
ever. 

"H-h-he's  got  m-m-me  by  the  leg.  O !  O !  O !  he's 
a  rippin'  me!  Help,  I  say,  help!" 

The  boys  dashed  valiantly  down  the  stairway. 
Brick  caught  the  dog  by  the  neck.  Higby,  true  to 
his  habit  of  backing  when  agonizing  for  words, 
promptly  stepped  out  behind,  and  fell  in  a  heap  on 
Brick,  Bylow,  and  the  broken  china.  Titus  and 
Dallas,  nearly  choking  with  laughter,  wrestled  with 
the  man,  dog,  and  colored  boy  to  get  them  on  their 


THE  SPOTTED  DOG  AGAIN  209 

feet,  while  Mrs.  Blodgett  and  the  maids  rushed 
from  the  kitchen  and  stood  with  horror-stricken 
faces. 

"Boys,"  said  the  Judge's  voice  from  the  top  of  the 
stairway,  "boys !"  and  his  voice  brought  calm  to  the 
situation. 

"Yes,  sir,"  gasped  Titus,  who  was  manfully  plac- 
ing Higby  against  the  wall  and  holding  him  there. 

"Take  the  colored  boy  to  the  stable,"  pursued  the 
Judge,  "and  get  him  to  lock  up  that  dog." 

"Yes,  sir — yes,  sir,"  replied  Titus ;  then  he  added, 
in  an  undertone,  "Hush  up,  Higby." 

"I  ca-ca-can't  hush  up,"  whined  Higby.  "Look 
at  my  pa-pa-pants.  Torn  an'  hang-hang-hangin' 
like  a  woman's  skirt.  An'  them  gir-gir-girls 
a-laughin' !" 

It  was,  alas !  too  true !  Finding  that  Higby  was 
not  hurt,  and  that  his  assailant  was  only  a  mis- 
chievous, medium-sized  dog  with  his  tongue  lolling 
good-naturedly  from  his  mouth,  and  that  the  china 
broken  was  not  the  best  in  the  house,  the  maids  were 
laughing  heartily. 

"Get  up  to  your  room,  then,  and  change  your 
clothes,"  said  Titus,  giving  Higby  a  friendly  push, 
"and  you,  boy,"  and  he  beckoned  to  Brick,  "come 
on  out  to  the  stable  with  me." 

Bethany  seized  upon  Higby  as  he  came  toward 
her  and  the  Judge,  and  so  bewailed  his  misfortune, 
and  so  sweetly  comforted  him,  that  the  old  man 
went  on  his  way  upstairs  with  a  calmer  face. 

"Hurry  up,"  said  Titus  to  Brick.  "I  want  to  get 
you  in  your  den  before  Roblee  comes.  He's  some- 
thing of  a  prig.  Dallas,  come  on,  too." 


CHAPTER  XVII 
TITUS  AS  A  PHILANTHROPIST 

THE  two  boys  rushed  Brick  and  the  dog  out  to 
the  stable. 

"This  way,"  said  Titus,  and  he  ran  upstairs  and 
opened  the  door  of  a  small  room  opposite  Roblee's. 

"It  used  to  be  a  harness  room,"  Titus  explained, 
"but  was  fitted  up  once  for  a  bedroom  when  that  old 
goose  Higby  took  measles  and  we  had  to  isolate 
him.  See,  here  is  a  bed,  and  table,  and  washstand. 
I'll  get  Mrs.  Blodgett  to  bring  out  some  bedding  by 
and  by." 

Brick  looked  about  him  with  his  tongue  and  eyes 
both  going.  "  'Tis  a  boss  place,  sah.  Me  an'  By- 
low's  not  slep'  in  such  a  place,  nevvah,  no,  nevvah." 

"You  see,"  went  on  Titus,  hurriedly,  "as  Miss 
Bethany  is  so  bent  on  keeping  you  round  for  a  time, 
I'd  like  to  get  my  grandfather  to  have  Roblee  take 
you  for  a  stable  boy.  He's  looking  for  one  just 
now.  He  won't  like  your  color,  but  we'll  try  to  get 
some  of  that  off  you." 

"You  aint  layin'  out  fer  to  wash  me,  be  you, 
young  sah  ?"  said  Brick,  anxiously. 

"Yes,  you  and  the  dog.  You're  both  too  dirty 
to  live." 

Brick  made  a  bolt  for  the  door,  but  Titus  got 
there  before  him  and  locked  it. 

"No  use  to  kick,"  he  said,  grimly.     "You're  a 


TITUS  AS  A  PHILANTHROPIST  211 

likely-looking  boy,  and  you're  a  fool  to  tramp  it. 
I'm  going  to  keep  you  here  for  a  while  and  try  to 
make  you  halfway  decent." 

Brick  went  down  on  his  knees.  "O,  lordy  massy, 
don't  wash  me,  young  sah." 

Titus  calmly  took  him  by  his  collar.  "Dallas, 
you'll  help  me." 

The  English  boy  looked  down  at  his  handsome 
suit  of  clothes;  however,  he  assented  quietly. 

"All  right,"  said  Titus,  with  a  nod  of  understand- 
ing and  good-fellowship,  "I  thought  you  would. 
Go  in  the  house  and  get  some  old  clothes  of  mine 
from  my  closet — not  too  old,  mind — and  a  comb 
and  brush  and  some  decent  soap  and  towels — lots 
of  'em ;  and  on  your  way  here  dash  across  the  back 
way  to  Charlie  Brown's  and  get  him  to  bring  over 
that  bathtub  he  uses  for  his  Newfoundland  dog. 
O,  before  you  go,"  he  called,  as  Dallas  was  leaving 
the  room,  "turn  on  the  heat." 

Dallas  went  over  to  a  radiator  in  the  corner,  then 
hurried  away. 

Titus  continued  to  hold  Brick,  who  did  not 
cease  for  one  single  minute  to  beg  and  pray  for 
release. 

"You  shan't  go,"  said  Titus,  inexorably,  "you 
dirty  little  beast.  I've  taken  a  fancy  to  you.  You've 
got  to  stay  here  and  be  our  stable  boy,  and  you 
sha'nt  be  our  stable  boy  till  you're  clean.  I  tell  you, 
Roblee  would  chuck  you  out  in  the  snow.  He's 
cleaner  than  I  am." 

"I  don't  want  to  stay,  sah,"  pleaded  Brick,  ear- 
nestly. "Water  just  pisons  me.  O,  let  me  go  back 
to  River  Street,  me  an'  Bylow,"  and  he  gazed  help- 


212  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

lessly  at  the  dog,  who  had  gone  to  the  radiator  and 
was  lying  calmly  beside  it. 

"It's  for  your  good,"  said  Titus,  earnestly. 
"Don't  you  want  to  earn  money  and  have  a  bank 
book?" 

"Money,  sah?"  said  Brick,  eagerly. 

"Yes,  lots  of  it — nice  clean,  rustling  greenbacks. 
But  you've  got  to  work  for  it,  my  son.  Hello! 
there  they  are!" 

Dallas  and  Charlie,  with  a  great  laughing  and 
thumping,  were  dragging  the  bathtub  upstairs. 

When  the  door  was  opened  Charlie  stuck  in  his 
head.  "Thought  I'd  come,  too — sounded  as  if  there 
was  going  to  be  some  fun." 

"No,  you  don't,"  said  Titus  to  Brick,  who  on  see- 
ing the  door  open  had  tried  to  make  a  dash  for  lib- 
erty. Then  he  addressed  the  other  boys.  "Shut 
that  door,  quick.  I  don't  want  this  frog  to  jump. 
Now,  look  sharp — Roblee  will  soon  be  home,  and  I 
want  this  over  before  he  comes." 

"Where  is  he  ?"  inquired  Dallas. 

"Had  to  take  the  horses  to  the  blacksmith.  I  say, 
fellows,  put  that  tub  here  in  the  middle  of  the  room. 
Now  rush  downstairs  to  the  harness  room  and  get 
a  couple  of  pails.  Then  fill  them  at  the  hot  water 
faucet  and  bring  them  up  here." 

Brick,  with  rolling  eyes,  watched  the  boys  scut- 
tling to  and  fro. 

"Don't  be  such  a  fool,"  said  Titus,  gently  shak- 
ing him.  "Anyone  would  think  we  were  going  to 
hang  you." 

"Bylow,"  said  Brick,  faintly,  "sic  'em,  sic  'em, 
good  dog." 


TITUS  AS  A  PHILANTHROPIST  213 

Bylow  turned  his  head.  Titus  was  still  in  his 
tramp  suit,  Charlie  Brown  was  considerably  dis- 
heveled from  working  about  his  pigeon  loft,  and 
Dallas  had  taken  the  precaution,  when  he  went  into 
the  house  hastily  to  change  his  good  suit  of  clothes 
for  the  one  in  which  he  had  arrived  at  the  Judge's. 
Therefore  they  were  a  trio  of  pretty  disreputable- 
looking  boys,  and  Bylow,  after  a  lazy  look  at  them, 
glanced  at  his  young  master  as  if  to  say,  "What  are 
you  worrying  about?  You  are  among  friends." 
Then  he  again  lay  down  by  the  radiator  and  went  to 
sleep.  He  knew  that  those  laughing,  chattering 
boys  meant  no  harm  to  the  shuddering  Brick,  and 
he  took  no  thought  for  himself. 

"Now,"  called  Titus,  "are  you  ready?" 

"Ay,  ay,  sir,"  responded  Charlie  Brown. 

"Then  help  me  undress  the  criminal,"  said 
Titus. 

In  five  minutes  Brick  was  seated  in  a  tub  of  deli- 
ciously  warm  water,  and  three  pairs  of  kind  young 
hands  were  lathering  him  with  soap. 

He  gave  one  yell  at  first,  then  he  sat  still — and 
enjoyed  it,  if  the  truth  must  be  told. 

"Is  this  a  baf,  young  sah?"  he  squeaked,  fear- 
fully. 

"Yes,  it's  a  'baf/  "  said  Titus ;  "what  did  you 
think  it  was?" 

"I  thought  a  baf  was  cold,  sah.  This  be  warm. 
O,  law!"  and  he  joyfully  paddled  with  his 
hands. 

"Stop  that,"  said  Titus,  peremptorily;  "you're 
splashing  us." 

The  boys  worked  like  heroes,  and  in  a  terrible 


214  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

haste  lest  Roblee  should  return.  Brick  was  rubbed 
and  scrubbed,  and  at  last  Titus  shouted,  "Out  with 
him  and  in  with  the  dog." 

"Young  sah,"  exclaimed  Brick,  "where's  my 
does?" 

Shivering  with  excitement,  he  stood  by  the  radi- 
ator, trying  to  rub  himself  with  the  towels  that  Titus 
had  thrown  to  him. 

"Burnt  up,"  said  Titus.  "Master  Dallas  there 
took  every  rag  down  and  chucked  them  in  the 
furnace." 

Brick  gave  a  howl.  "An'  me  five  dollah  gold 
piece  sewed  in  the  tail  of  me  coat !" 

"Five  dollar  fiddlestick!"  said  Titus,  energetic- 
ally. "Did  you  ever  see  such  a  darky  ?  He  doesn't 
even  know  how  to  dry  himself.  Give  him  a  rub 
down,  Charlie,  will  you,  while  Dallas  and  I  intro- 
duce the  dog  to  the  tub?" 

Bylow  was  a  considerably  astonished  dog.  He 
was  no  water  dog,  and  the  touch  of  water  to  his 
body  was  as  distasteful  to  him  as  it  had  been  at  first 
to  Brick.  Titus  flung  a  question  over  his  shoulder 
at  Brick.  "Is  he  a  biter?" 

"Sah,"  said  Brick,  earnestly,  "he  aint  no  bitah. 
I  nevvah  knowed  him  to  set  his  teeth  in  no  one. 
He's  just  a  rippah,  sah." 

"That's  good,"  said  Titus;  "come  on,  boys.  I'll 
hold  and  you  scrub.  Brick,  get  on  that  bed  and 
cover  yourself  with  those  horse  blankets.  We'll 
attend  to  you  presently." 

It  took  all  three  boys  to  manage  the  dog.  His 
howls,  his  bounds,  his  cries  were  prodigious,  but  he 
did  not  once  attempt  to  bite.  He  was  as  shrewd  as 


TITUS  AS  A  PHILANTHROPIST  215 

most  dogs,  and  he  knew  that  the  hand  on  his  collar 
was  thLt  of  a  master. 

He,  unlike  Brick,  did  not  enjoy  one  minute  of  the 
bath.  He  did  not  care  if  the  water  was  warm,  and 
he  struggled  and  kicked  until  the  three  boys  were 
breathless. 

"My !  he's  a  bounder,"  exclaimed  Charlie.  "What 
a  back !  How  many  breeds  are  there  in  him,  colored 
boy?" 

"Don't  know,  sah,  but  I've  heard  them  say  as 
knows  that  his  fathah  ought  to  'a'  bin  a  bulldog, 
an'  his  grandmothah  were  a  pointah." 

"Let  him  out,"  ordered  Dallas,  "let  him  out;  my 
back's  'most  broken." 

"So  is  mine,"  laughed  Dallas,  but  he  ran  after  the 
dog,  which  was  shaking  violently,  and  began  to  rub 
him  dry. 

"Now  for  the  fancy  dress  ball,"  said  Titus,  and 
he  began  to  pull  at  the  heap  of  clothes  that  Dallas 
had  brought  out.  "Stand  up,  Brick — here,  put  on 
that  shirt." 

Brick,  grinning  like  a  Chessy  cat,  took  up  the 
pink  and  white  cotton  shirt  and  ran  his  arms  into  it. 

"Here,"  said  Titus,  and  he  threw  him  various 
other  garments.  "Not  that  way,  owl — this  way," 
and  he  began  to  dress  the  boy  himself.  Then  he 
turned  to  Dallas.  "I  say,  old  fellow,  run  in  the 
house  to  my  room  and  get  that  long  mirror  standing 
behind  the  door.  I  was  trying  a  high  kick  the  other 
day  and  broke  it.  Grandfather  says  he'll  get  me 
another." 

Dallas  obligingly  nodded,  and  his  long  legs  speed- 
ily took  him  away  from  the  stable. 


216  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"H'm,  no  tie  and  no  collar,"  said  Titus  at  last 
when  Brick  was  fully  dressed. 

"Here,"  said  Charlie,  pulling  off  his,  "don't  spare 
the  finishing  touches." 

Titus  was  just  fastening  the  red-silk  tie  when 
Dallas  entered  the  room  bearing  aloft  the  long 
glass. 

"Set  it  down  there,"  said  Titus,  pointing  to  the 
wall.  "Now,  colored  boy,  look." 

The  transformed  boy  stepped  up  to  the  glass. 
He  gave  one  glance,  then  he  turned  to  the  three 
boys  behind  him,  who  were  also  reflected  in  the 
mirror. 

"Where's  Brick,  genTmen?" 

Titus  shook  his  head  solemnly.     "Dead!" 

The  colored  boy  looked  again.  "I  see  foah  young 
sahs  in  dere,  genTmen." 

His  face  was  irresistible,  and  the  three  boys  burst 
out  laughing. 

"That  dead  boy  used  to  have  cheeks  like  mud, 
gen'l'men,"  Brick  went  on,  in  his  funny,  flat  voice. 
"This  boy  have  pale  cheeks.  He  mos'  white." 

"Brick,"  said  Titus,  solemnly,  "we've  taken  off 
ten  layers  of  dirt." 

"Young  sah,"  continued  Brick,  with  dancing  eye- 
balls, "the  young  cullid  fellahs  down  at  the  hotel, 
they  wears  buttins." 

His  cunning  glance  searched  Titus's  face. 

"Well,  you  shall  have  plenty  of  buttons  to  wear," 
replied  Titus,  agreeably.  "We'll  stud  you  with  them 
till  you  don't  know  which  is  button  and  which  is 
boy." 

Brick  gave  a  shrill  whistle  and  leaped  in  the  air. 


TITUS  AS  A  PHILANTHROPIST  217 

Then  he  began  to  dance — to  dance  with  such  glee 
and  so  much  comicality  that  the  three  boys  were 
presently  exploding  with  laughter. 

"Come  on ;  this  isn't  work/'  exclaimed  Titus,  sud- 
denly. "I  see  Betty  coming  out  with  the  first  call 
to  dinner.  Let's  clear  up  this  mess,  'genTmen.' 
Here,  Brick,  you  help." 

The  colored  boy  took  hold  with  a  will,  and  soon 
the  room  was  as  tidy  as  when  they  had  entered  it. 

"Put  some  life  into  that  dog,"  commanded  Titus, 
pointing  to  Bylow. 

Brick  ran  at  him,  caught  him  round  the  middle 
of  his  body,  and  danced  round  the  room  with  him 
till  he  had  no  breath  left. 

"Now  cover  him  up  with  those  blankets,"  said 
Titus,  "and  come  in  and  have  some  dinner." 

"Me,  sah,"  exclaimed  Brick;  "me,  sah?" 

"Yes,  you — Charlie,  will  you  stay?" 

"O,  yes,"  replied  his  friend,  sarcastically,  "I  look 
so  pretty." 

"Get  off  with  you,  then,"  said  Titus,  playfully 
giving  him  a  push,  "and  come  some  other  day. 
Much  obliged  for  your  help." 

Charlie  ran  whistling  out  the  back  door  of  the 
stable,  and  Dallas,  Titus,  and  Brick  walked  toward 
the  house. 

"Mind  you,"  said  Titus  to  Brick,  "not  one  word 
to  the  girls  or  Mrs.  Blodgett.  Eat  what  is  set  before 
you  and  ask  no  questions." 

Titus  began  to  yawn  and  stutter  when  they  got 
to  the  house.  His  excitement  was  over. 

"B-b-blodgieblossom,"  he  said,  seeking  her  in  the 
little  sitting  room  off  the  storeroom,  where  she  usu- 


218  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

ally  sat  to  be  within  easy  reach  of  the  kitchen,  "I've 
got  a  new  black  pigeon — I  want  some  dinner  for 
it." 

"All  right,  my  boy,"  said  the  woman,  affection- 
ately, and  she  waddled  out  into  the  hall. 

"H-h-here  it  is,"  said  Titus,  emphatically,  and  he 
laid  his  hand  on  Brick's  shoulder. 

"Bless  my  heart,  and  soul,  and  body,"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Blodgett,  "if  you  aint  the  greatest  lad!  An- 
other colored  boy,  and  the  first  one  hardly  gone  out 
of  the  house." 

"H-h-how  would  you  have  liked  to  keep  that  first 
one,  Blodgieblossom  ?' '  said  Titus,  mischievously. 

"I  wouldn't  have  given  him  houseroom,"  she  said, 
energetically,  "the  dirty  creature !  Now  this  fellow 
looks  clean,"  and  she  bestowed  a  kindly  glance  on 
Brick.  "I'll  have  the  girls  lay  him  a  little  table  in 
the  wash  room." 

Brick  was  grinning,  but  not  as  alarmingly  as  be- 
fore. He  was  embarrassed  now,  and  somewhat 
afraid  of  this  fat  woman. 

Ten  minutes  later  he  was  an  ecstatic  colored  boy. 
White  girls  were  waiting  on  him,  white  girls  were 
placing  before  him  the  most  sumptuous  dinner  he 
ever  ate,  and  he  surreptitiously  sneaked  pieces  off 
his  plate  and  into  his  pockets  for  Bylow,  the  dog. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 
AIRY'S  SECOND  CALL  ON  THE  JUDGE 

AIRY  was  arriving  at  100  Grand  Avenue,  via  the 
stable. 

Like  a  little  dark  shadow,  she  flitted  up  the  drive- 
way to  the  open  door  of  the  harness  room.  Brick 
was  there,  seated  on  an  overturned  tub,  polishing 
a  silver-mounted  bridle  and  whistling  vigorously. 
Bylow  lay  at  his  feet,  only  lazily  moving  one  ear  in 
the  direction  of  Airy. 

He  knew  who  was  coming.  In  fact,  with  his  dog- 
gish sense  of  smell  he  knew  before  he  saw  her. 

"Good  evening,"  said  Airy,  suddenly. 

"Hello!"  exclaimed  Brick,  starting  to  his  feet. 
"Lord-a-massy,  I  thought  it  was  a  ghos'.  How  be 
you,  Airy?" 

"Very  well,  thank  you,"  she  said,  mincing  her 
words. 

"Set  down,"  said  Brick,  hospitably,  pushing  a 
stool  toward  her. 

"Thank  you,"  she  said,  leaning  against  the  door- 
way, "I  can't  set — I  mean,  sit  down — with  a  stable 
boy.  I'm  a-goin',  a-going,  I  should  say,  to  be  a 
lady." 

"Aint  you  give  up  that  nonsense  yet?"  he  said, 
agreeably,  and  dropping  his  bridle  he  got  up  and 
lounged  toward  her. 

"I  never  shall  give  it  up,"  she  said,  solemnly. 


22O  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"There  always  was  somethin'  creepy  about  you, 
Airy,"  said  Brick,  uneasily.  "I  say  charms  when 
I'm  round  wid  you." 

"What  kind  of  charms  ?"  she  asked,  seriously. 

"O,  'Debbil,  debbil,  nevvah  die/  an'  The  bogie's 
got  a  lantern  hangin'  out  for  me  dis  night/  ' 

"Brick,"  said  the  little  girl,  severely,  "if  you  say 
charms  you'll  never  be  a  gentleman." 

"Don't  want  to  be  a  gen'l'man,"  he  replied, 
stoutly.  "Kin'  Providence  had  a  little  coffee  in  de 
wattah  when  he  made  dis  chile.  I'se  a-goin'  to 
stay  cullid." 

"Well,  I'm  going  to  be  a  lady,"  said  the  little 
girl,  severely,  "and  I'm  not  going  to  waste  time  talk- 
ing to  trash  like  you.  I  just  promised  mother  to 
run  and  see  how  you  be." 

Brick  grinned.  He  did  not  care  for  her  thrusts. 
"Tell  your  mummy,"  he  said,  "that  I'm  a-comin' 
down  to  call.  Kin  you  see  my  buttins?  Do  the 
light  strike  'em  dere?"  and  he  moved  anxiously 
nearer  the  hanging  electric  globe. 

"Yes,"  said  Airy,  scornfully  surveying  the  breast 
of  his  coat,  which  was  one  mass  of  brass  buttons; 
"you  look  like  the  button  drawer  at  Moses  & 
Brown's  turned  upside  down." 

"I  sewed  'em  on  myself,"  he  went  on,  unheed- 
ingly.  "Young  Mass'  Tite  he  guv  me  de  buttins. 
I  guess  they  ben't  quite  plumb,  but  I've  got  'em." 

"I  guess  you  have  to  work  here,"  she  remarked. 

Brick  groaned. 

"You  won't  like  that,"  she  went  on,  scornfully. 

"Like  it,  honey — Brick  hates  it  like  pison — but, 
golly!  de  grub — dat's  what  keeps  dis  niggah  heah." 


AIRY'S  SECOND  CALL  221 

"You'll  get  tired  of  it  an'  run  away,"  she  con- 
tinued. 

"Mebbe,"  he  said,  with  a  yawn,  "but  look-y-there, 
missie,"  and  he  drew  a  crackling  greenback  from  his 
pocket  and  shook  it  in  her  face.  "Mass'  Tite,  he 
call  dat  earnest  money.  Chile  alive,  Brick  had  one 
pound  chocolate  drops  yesterday,  two  pounds  cara- 
mel creams  to-day,  an'  he's  a-goin'  to  have  a  bag 
of  jaw-breakers  to-morrow,  if  he's  a  spared  nig. 
Ice  cream  we  gets  at  table." 

"Ketch  me  givin'  my  servants  ice  cream  when  I 
have  a  house,"  she  said,  disdainfully. 

"You're  goin'  to  make  a  rattlin'  fine  lady,"  said 
Brick,  with  a  comical  glance.  "Don't  you  come  fo' 
me  to  work  under  yeh." 

"I  wouldn't  have  you,"  she  said;  then,  catching 
sight  of  a  new  collar  on  Bylow,  she  asked,  suddenly, 
"Who  give  him  that?" 

"Mass5  Tite,  missie.  When  he  begged  fo'  to  keep 
me,  Roblee,  de  ole  man  coachman,  he  was  mad,  an' 
I  guess  de  Jedge  was  half  mad.  But  Mass'  Tite, 
he  begged.  'Well,'  says  de  Jedge,  'de  dog  mus' 
go.'  'Grandfathah,'  says  Mass'  Tite,  'I'm  a-goin' 
fo'  to  make  a  gen'1'man  of  dat  dere  dog.'  Says  de 
Jedge,  'Ye  can't  do  it.'  Says  Mass'  Tite,  'Gimme 
a  chance.'  So  he  go  downtown,  he  buy  dat  fine 
plated  collah,  he  talk  to  de  dog,  he  brush  him,  he 
show  him  folks  wid  good  does  on;  he  says,  'Don' 
go  fo'  to  be  no  tramp  dog  no  longer;'  an',  pon  my 
honnah,  dat  dog,  between  de  collah,  an'  de  talkin', 
an'  de  showin',  an'  de  brushin',  and  de  good  grub, 
an'  de  warm  room — why,  he's  goin'  fo'  to  be  a 
ruspectable  dog." 


222  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Airy  said  nothing,  but  she  looked  interested,  and 
Brick  went  on  with  his  vivacious  play  of  hands, 
mouth,  eyes,  teeth,  and  tongue. 

"An'  dat  ole  coachman,  he's  a-comin'  roun'  to 
like  him.  Jes'  wait  till  I  tells  yeh.  Befo'  he  come, 
ole  Roblee  he  miss  his  oats.  Some  one  steal  'em. 
He  don't  know  how.  Says  he,  'De  oat  bin  aint 
nevvah  open,  only  when  I  takes  out  oats  fo'  de 
hosses  an'  de  cow,  an'  when  I  leaves  it  fo'  de  man 
who  bring  de  oats  to  put  'em  in.  He's  as  honest 
as  I  be.  Yisterday,  says  he  to  Bylow,  'Dog,  look 
at  dat  oat  bin.  I'm  a-goin'  to  leave  it  open.  Go 
in  dat  dark  corner  an'  watch.  Ef  you's  any  good  as 
watchdog  you'll  ketch  de  thief." 

Airy  held  out  a  finger  to  Bylow,  who  licked  it 
slightly,  and  Brick  continued: 

"I  give  Bylow  a  sign,  an'  he  went  an'  lay  down — 
didn't  run  after  me  no  moah.  Late  in  de  afternoon, 
when  Roblee  was  a-drivin'  de  Jedge,  an*  I  was  in 
de  house  smellin'  roun'  to  see  if  I  could  get  some 
cookies  what  de  girls  was  a-bakin',  I  heard  a  hulla- 
baloo in  de  stable.  I  runned,  an'  Bylow  he  was 
a-rippin*  at  de  pants  of  de  good  man  what  brung 
de  oats." 

"That  man  that  brung  them?"  replied  Airy,  in  a 
puzzled  voice. 

"Yes,  missie,  de  good  man  knew  when  Roblee 
was  away,  he  brung  'em  an'  he  took  'em.  He  roared 
an'  he  prayed,  but  Bylow  went  on  a-rippin',  an'  I 
led  him  in  dis  harness  room  an'  locked  de  door,  an' 
me  an'  Bylow  set  outside,  an'  when  de  Jedge  come 
he  interviewed  the  crimminel.  Says  he,  'What  you 
bin  stealin'  my  oats  fo'?'  Says  de  man,  'I  works 


AIRY'S  SECOND  CALL  223 

hard  an'  I'm  only  half  paid,  an'  I've  got  a  sick  chile 
at  home  a-dyin'  fer  want  of  oranges  an'  grapes,  an' 
I  hevn't  got  no  money  fo'  to  buy  'em.  Jedge,  if 
you  hev  me  'rested,  it'll  kill  her.'  Says  de  Jedge, 
'You  ought  to  'a'  thought  of  yer  daughtah  befoh. 
Come  in  de  house  wid  me,'  an'  he  took  him  in. 
In  ten  minutes  I  see  de  man  a-comin'  out  of  de  house 
wid  a  bag  of  some  knubby  things  undah  one  arm — 
they  mought  'a'  bin  petetters,  they  mought  'a'  bin 
oranges — an'  undah  de  oddah  he  had  one  of  Mis' 
Blodgett's  lemon  pies,  'cause  I  see  de  marangue 
from  it  stickin'  to  de  paper,  an'  he  had  oddah  gro- 
ceries, an'  he  was  cryin',  and  he  hadn't  no  hand  to 
get  his  hankersniff,  so  I  followed  on  behin'  wid 
Bylow,  an'  when  we  got  out  o'  sight  of  de  house, 
an'  in  sight  of  his  cyart  wid  de  waitin'  hoss,  I  says, 
'Boss,  shall  I  give  yer  a  lend  of  my  hankersniff?' 
Says  he,  'Quit  yer  foolin',  ye  sassy  black  imp,'  an' 
he  begun  to  gathah  up  his  lines.  Says  he,  'Ye've 
got  a  good  place  heah.  I  advise  you  to  stick  to  it,' 
an'  then  he  druv  away,  an'  I  aint  heard  no  talk  of 
no  policeman." 

"Good-bye,"  said  Airy,  abruptly,  "I'm  a-goin'  in 
to  see  the  Jedge,"  and  she  went  slowly  down  the 
way  she  had  come,  and,  going  round  to  the  front 
of  the  house,  rang  the  bell. 

The  Judge  was  expecting  her  this  evening,  and 
Jennie,  having  been  warned,  made  no  protest. 

Bethany  had  gone  to  bed.  She  remembered  quite 
well  the  evening  that  Airy  was  to  return,  and  she 
could  hardly  wait  to  finish  her  dinner  before  retir- 
ing to  her  room.  The  Judge  smiled  broadly  at  her 
haste.  She  did  not  like  Airy. 


224  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

He  put  down  his  book  when  the  young  Tingsby 
girl  entered  the  room,  then  he  took  off  his  glasses 
and  surveyed  her  in  silence.  He  was  shocked  by 
her  appearance.  She  was  always  thin  and  delicate, 
but  to-night  there  were  dark  rings  under  her  eyes, 
and  her  manner  was  subdued  and  languid.  How- 
ever, her  indomitable  spirit  shone  forth  from  her 
black  eyes,  and  the  Judge  calmly  returned  her  salu- 
tation, and  asked  her  how  she  was  getting  on. 

"All  right,"  she  said,  coolly,  "but  I've  been  study- 
in'  all  night  an'  all  day." 

"That  is  a  foolish  proceeding,"  he  remarked, 
warmly. 

"There's  such  a  heap  to  learn,"  she  said,  wearily. 
"Seems  as  if  I  can't  ever  ketch  up  to  it." 

"One  thing  at  a  time,"  said  the  Judge.  "You 
are  young  yet,  and,  I  hope,  have  many  years  before 
you.  But  you  must  not  sit  up  at  night." 

"Be  I  improved  ?"  she  asked,  unheedingly. 

"Yes,"  he  replied,  promptly.  "You  have  remem- 
bered your  lesson.  You  came  in  quietly.  Your 
voice  is  low,  but  you  really  look  too  ill  to  talk  this 
evening.  I  will  just  tell  you  something  I  have  been 
doing  and  then  send  you  downstairs  to  have  some- 
thing to  eat  and  get  one  of  the  maids  to  go  home 
with  you.  I  don't  want  you  to  come  here  any  more 
in  the  evenings.  Little  girls  should  not  be  running 
the  streets  then.  Come  to  see  me  in  the  afternoon, 
if  you  wish." 

"Nothin'  would  hurt  me,"  she  said,  peevishly. 

The  Judge  got  up  and  went  to  the  mantelpiece. 
"Can  you  read  writing?" 

"Yes,  sir,  if  it  aint  too  scrawly." 


AIRY'S  SECOND  CALL  225 

"Well,  here  is  a  letter  that  I  have  written  to  your 
mother.  I  want  you  to  read  it,  then  to  take  it  to 
her.  Perhaps  I  would  better  read  it  to  you,"  and 
he  sat  down  again. 

Airy  languidly  dropped  her  head  against  the 
cushions  of  her  chair  and  listened  to  him  attentively 
enough  at  first,  then  eagerly,  and  at  last  with  a 
strained,  frantic  interest. 


CHAPTER  XIX 
DALLAS  TAKES  A  HAND  AT  MANAGEMENT 

"MRS.  TINGSBY,  DEAR  MADAM,"  began  the 
Judge,  in  his  clear,  rounded  voice,  "Some  time  ago 
I  went  to  see  a  real  estate  agent  in  this  city,  and 
told  him  I  wanted  to  invest  a  certain  sum  of  money 
in  house  property.  He  has  bought  several  houses 
for  me ;  among  them  is  one  cottage  situated  on  the 
Cloverdale  electric  railway  line.  It  is  only  four 
miles  from  the  post  office,  so  one  can  easily  get  into 
the  city  from  it.  The  cottage  has  eight  rooms;  it 
is  heated  by  a  furnace,  there  are  hot  and  cold-water 
pipes,  and  it  has  a  small  stable  where  a  cow  could 
be  kept.  The  outlook  is  sunny,  and  the  situation  is 
not  lonely,  for  there  are  other  houses  about  sixty 
feet  away.  There  is  also  a  good  school  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  from  the  cottage.  I  have  as  yet  no  tenant 
for  this  cottage,  and  if  you  can  pay  the  rent,  which 
is  one  dollar  a  month,  or  twelve  dollars  a  year,  I 
think  you  should,  in  justice  to  your  children,  at  once 
take  possession  of  it.  I  must  not  forget  to  say  that 
I  greatly  desire  to  say  that  whoever  takes  the  cot- 
tage should  consent  to  receive  as  a  boarder  an  old 
servant  of  mine — a  washerwoman.  She  is  in  poor 
health,  and  requires  some  waiting  on.  Her  board, 
therefore,  will  be  liberal.  I  am  prepared  to  offer 


DALLAS  TAKES  A  HAND  227 

you  for  her  twelve  dollars  a  week.     Let  me  hear 
from  you  at  your  earliest  convenience. 
"Yours  very  truly, 

"TITUS  BANCROFT." 

There  was  a  dead  silence  after  the  Judge  had 
finished  reading  the  letter.  He  folded  it,  put  it  back 
in  the  envelope,  then  looked  at  Airy. 

Her  eyes  were  fixed,  and  she  was  staring 
strangely  at  him.  At  last  her  jaws  moved  feebly. 
It  seemed  as  if  she  were  trying  them  to  see  if  she 
could  utter  a  sentence. 

"Be  that  true  ?"  she  gasped,  in  a  hoarse  voice. 

"Yes,  child,  quite  true." 

"Every  word  of  it — house  rent  twelve  dollars  a 
year?" 

"O,  the  pity  of  it,"  and  the  Judge  stifled  a  groan. 
At  her  age,  to  be  so  keenly,  so  terribly  alive  to  the 
value  of  a  dollar. 

"House  rent,  twelve  dollars,"  he  said. 

"House  rent,  twelve  dollars,"  she  repeated,  me- 
chanically, "and  boarder's  pay  twelve  dollars,  too. 
Only  one  is  by  the  year,  and  one  by  the  week,"  and 
opening  her  mouth  she  began  to  laugh  in  a  shrill, 
mechanical  voice. 

She  started  low,  but  she  soon  got  high,  and  the 
Judge  was  beginning  to  stir  uneasily  in  his  chair, 
when,  to  his  dismay,  the  laugh  ended  abruptly  and 
a  scream  began.  It  was  not  an  ordinary  scream,  it 
was  an  hysterical  screech,  and  the  alarmed  man 
sprang  from  his  seat. 

Airy  had  thrown  herself  back  in  her  chair,  her 
mouth  was  wide  open,  her  eyes  were  staring  and 


228  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

glassy.  "O!"  The  man  put  his  hands  to  his  ears. 
It  seemed  to  him  that  nothing  in  his  life  had  ever 
struck  such  sudden  dismay  to  his  heart.  He  had 
seen  women  in  hysterics,  but  this  childish  yelling 
was  a  thousand  times  worse.  Where  were  the  boys 
and  the  servants?  He  could  not  bear  to  touch  the 
unfortunate  young  creature,  and  he  turned  help- 
lessly to  the  door. 

Titus  and  Dallas  were  rushing  in  from  the  room 
across  the  hall.  When  Titus  saw  Airy  he  fell  back. 
He  had  something  of  his  grandfather's  repugnance 
to  her. 

Dallas,  however,  was  not  dismayed.  He  took  in 
the  situation  at  a  glance,  and  saying  to  Titus,  "You 
had  better  shut  the  windows,"  he  calmly  took  off 
his  coat  and  threw  it  over  Airy's  head. 

At  the  close  of  the  day  the  big  furnace  in  the 
basement  was  apt  to  make  the  house  very  warm, 
and  windows  were  freely  left  open.  Titus  ran 
about  this  second  floor,  hastily  closing  them,  while 
the  servants  came  running  to  the  study  to  see  what 
was  the  matter. 

"Take  her  away,"  said  the  Judge,  hastily;  "let 
the  women  have  her.  I  think  she  is  half  starved. 
Give  her  something  to  eat,  and  let  her  go  home." 

Airy's  voice  was  muffled  now,  but  it  was  still  hold- 
ing forth,  and  in  addition  she  had  begun  to  kick. 

Dallas  took  up  the  lean  little  body  in  his  strong 
young  arms  and  bore  it  across  the  hall  to  the  sitting 
room. 

"Come  in  here,"  he  said  to  the  wave  of  maids  on 
the  staircase,  and  followed  by  Mrs.  Blodgett  this 
wave  overflowed  into  the  sitting  room. 


DALLAS  TAKES  A  HAND  229 

"I  excited  her — I  will  stay  here,"  said  the  Judge, 
with  an  approving  gesture,  and  he  backed  into  his 
study  and  closed  the  door.  "Take  good  care  of  her," 
he  called  once  more,  opening  the  door,  "and  send 
her  home  when  she  is  better." 

Titus  returned  into  a  corner  of  the  sitting  room, 
and  Dallas  became  master  of  ceremonies. 

"I've  seen  women  like  this  in  boarding  houses," 
he  observed,  reassuringly,  to  Titus.  Then  he  said, 
"Some  cold  water,  Jennie,  to  sprinkle  on  her  face." 

The  water  was  dashed  on  her,  her  hands  were 
rubbed,  and  presently  the  exhausted  girl  sat  up  and 
shut  her  mouth. 

"Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  have  some  hot  soup, 
or  something  of  the  sort,  prepared  for  her,"  said 
Dallas  to  Mrs.  Blodgett,  "and  make  the  maids  go 
away.  There  are  too  many  people  in  the  room." 

Mrs.  Blodgett  drove  everybody  out  except  Titus. 
However,  he  soon  slipped  away,  and  she  and  Dallas 
were  alone  with  the  little  girl. 

They  said  nothing  to  her,  and  Airy,  curled  up  on 
a  sofa,  panted  and  sobbed  in  a  suppressed  way,  until 
Jennie  appeared  with  the  soup. 

Then  she  protested.  "Take  it  away.  I  aint  got 
no  feelin'  for  it." 

"Drink  it,"  said  Dallas,  quietly,  and  he  held  the 
bowl  to  her  lips. 

She  had  to  take  it,  though  in  the  effort  a  violent 
perspiration  broke  out  all  over  her  weak  little  body. 

Dallas  made  her  drink  every  drop  of  it,  then  he 
sat  quietly  staring  at  her.  Mrs.  Blodgett  took  the 
bowl  and  waddled  away,  promising  to  return  in  a 
short  time. 


230  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Airy  nervously  plucked  at  the  sofa  cushions,  until 
Dallas  asked  her  a  question. 

"Why  did  you  shock  the  Judge  by  screaming  in 
that  way?" 

"  'Cause  he's  such  a  wonder,"  she  said,  weakly, 
"he's  such  an  understandin'  merracle  of  a  man." 

"What  has  he  done?" 

"He's  give  us  a  farm — a  greenery  place  outside 
the  city." 

"O!"  said  Dallas,  quietly,  "a  place  for  your 
mother  to  take  the  children?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"What  did  you  come  here  to-night  for?"  asked 
the  boy. 

"I  come  for  to  take  a  lesson  in  bein'  a  lady." 

"Does  the  Judge  teach  you?" 

"Yes,  sir."' 

Dallas  pondered  a  few  minutes,  then  he  said,  half 
to  himself,  "I  wonder  if  he  enjoys  it." 

"No,"  he  don't,"  said  Airy,  frankly.  "He  don't,  but 
what  kin  I  do.  I've  got  to  learn  how  to  be  a  lady." 

"I'll  speak  to  the  Judge,"  said  Dallas,  calmly.  "I 
think  I  could  give  you  lessons.  It's  a  shame  to 
bother  a  man  of  his  age. 

Airy's  eyes  sparkled  faintly.  This  polite  boy 
could  teach  her  as  well  as  the  Judge  could.  How- 
ever, she  felt  too  exhausted  to  discuss  the  matter, 
and  sat  quietly  on  the  sofa. 

"I'll  come  to  you,"  said  Dallas;  "you're  not 
strong  enough  to  come  here." 

"I  likes  it,"  she  said,  faintly ;  "I  likes  this  house." 

"Well,  perhaps  when  you  are  stronger,"  he  said, 
decidedly.  "Just  now,  you  look  as  if  you  ought  not 


DALLAS  TAKES  A  HAND  231 

to  leave  your  own  rooftree.  I'll  come  and  teach 
you  several  days  a  week  after  school  is  over.  I 
suppose  you'll  be  moving  soon,  if  the  Judge  has 
given  you  a  house?" 

"You  bet  we  will,"  she  said,  faintly. 

"And  now,"  he  went  on,  "I  am  going  to  have  a 
carriage  sent  for,  and  one  of  the  maids  will  go 
home  with  you." 

"I'm  not  worth  it,"  said  Airy,  but  she  was  de- 
lighted, he  could  tell  by  her  wan  smile. 

Ten  minutes  later  Dallas  stood  at  the  front  door 
watching  the  disappearing  lights  of  the  cab  that 
bore  the  poor  child  away. 

Then  he  went  upstairs  to  the  Judge's  study. 

"Sir,"  he  said,  "if  you  will  allow  me,  I  should 
like  to  help  that  little  girl  get  an  education." 

His  patron  looked  at  him  benevolently.  "But 
you  have  not  the  time,  Dallas." 

"Yes,  sir,  I  could  teach  her  any  day  after  school." 

The  Judge  reflected  a  few  minutes.  Perhaps  it 
would  be  better  for  the  little  girl  to  have  a  younger 
instructor.  Then  it  would  be  a  chance  for  self- 
sacrifice  on  the  part  of  Dallas. 

"You  sympathize  with  her  aspirations?"  he  said, 
inquiringly. 

"I've  been  there,  sir,"  replied  Dallas,  warmly. 
"I  have  been  poor  and  despised,  and  I  have  longed 
to  get  an  education." 

"Very  well,  I  make  my  charge  over  to  you.  If 
you  get  tired,  hand  her  back  to  me." 

"I  won't  get  tired,"  said  the  boy,  firmly. 

"She  wants  nourishing  food,"  said  the  Judge, 
"more  than  anything  else.  I  shall  give  orders  to 


232  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

have  something  sent  to  her  every  day  from  our 
table." 

Dallas  said  good-night  to  him  and  went  away, 
and  the  Judge  thoughtfully  picked  up  his  book. 

"I  wonder  what  he  will  make  of  her — poor  little 
soul,  she  looks  as  if  she  were  going  to  die." 

Until  he  went  to  bed  Airy  was  in  his  thoughts. 
Poor  little  ailing  creature,  he  hoped  that  she  would 
gain  strength.  It  was  sad  to  have  so  much  ambi- 
tion bound  up  in  such  a  fragile  body.  He  was  glad 
that  he  had  done  something  to  enable  her  mother  to 
move  away  from  narrow,  dirty  River  Street. 

During  the  night  he  dreamed  of  the  Tingsbys,  and 
when  he  awoke  in  the  morning  they  were  still  before 
him.  Therefore,  when  he  went  out  into  the  hall 
and  looked  out  the  window,  as  he  usually  did  before 
he  went  down  to  breakfast,  he  was  hardly  surprised 
to  see  the  whole  Tingsby  family,  except  Airy,  seated 
on  the  long  flight  of  steps  leading  up  to  his  front 
door.  He  stared  at  them,  then  he  went  slowly 
downstairs. 

Higby  was  sitting  on  one  of  the  hall  chairs.  He 
got  up  when  he  saw  his  employer,  and  slightly  back- 
ing, as  he  always  did  when  speaking  to  the  Judge, 
said,  "Th-th-there's  a  whole  f-f-family  campin'  out 
on  the  s-s-steps,  sir.  They  wouldn't  c-c-come  in." 

The  Judge  patiently  put  on  a  hat  and  opened  the 
door. 

"  'Tention,"  he  heard  in  Mrs.  Tingsby's  voice  as 
he  stepped  out. 

"Good-morning,"  he  said,  politely. 

She  went  on,  without  apparently  noticing  him: 
"Up,  little  Tingsbys!" 


DALLAS  TAKES  A  HAND  233 

"Seems  to  be  a  kind  of  drill,"  murmured  the 
Judge  to  himself.  "Well,  if  it  pleases  them  and 
doesn't  last  too  long  I  won't  complain.  I  wonder 
how  many  of  my  neighbors  are  up  ?"  and  he  calmly 
scanned  the  windows  of  the  house  next  door. 

Two  maids  were  behind  the  curtains.  The  Tings- 
bys  evidently  amused  them. 

Mrs.  Tingsby  had  been  holding  the  baby  in  her 
arms  when  the  Judge  arrived.  Now  he  stood  on 
his  own  young  feet,  and  with  admirable  intelligence 
was  taking  his  part  in  the  maneuvers. 

"Hands  out,  Tingsbys !"  said  the  little  woman. 

Every  Tingsby  child  stretched  out  its  arms — 
Dobbie,  Gibb,  Goldie,  Rodd,  and  Annie. 

"Mitts  off!"  commanded  the  mother. 

Every  child  bared  his  or  her  hands. 

Mrs.  Tingsby  turned  to  the  Judge.  "See  them 
finger  nails,  sir.  Every  one  of  'em  to  be  worked 
off  for  you." 

The  Judge  shivered  slightly. 

"In  case  you  needs  it,"  she  continued,  with  em- 
phasis. "Now,  children,  your  catechism.  Ques- 
tion one:  Who  came  down  like  a  sheep  to  the  fold 
and  swooped  little  Bethany  away  to  a  lovely  home?" 

Five  young  voices  gave  an  answer  to  the  chilly 
morning  wind  sweeping  by,  "The  Jedge." 

"Who's  been  a  good  shepherd  to  Sister  Airy?" 

Again  the  shrill  voices  answered,  "The  Jedge !" 

"Who's  guv,  or  almost  guv,  us  a  lovely  green 
house  out  in  the  country,  which  our  eyes  have  all 
seen  this  blessed  mornin' — guv  to  the  Tingsbys  ?" 

"The  Jedge!"  shouted  the  children,  excitedly. 

"An'  now  who's  goin'  to  love  the  Jedge,  an'  work 


234  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

for  the  Jedge,  an'  praise  the  Jedge,  an'  copy  the 
Jedge?"* 

"We  be!"  they  yelled,  excitedly. 

"I  am  quite  satisfied  with  this  exhibition  of  grati- 
tude," said  the  Judge,  trying  to  speak  very  dis- 
tinctly, "quite  satisfied." 

Mrs.  Tingsby  beamed  on  him.  "Sir,  your  hum- 
ble servant.  If  ever  I  hears  anyone  say  a  word  agin 
you  I'll  tear  out  his  hair,  an'  scratch  out  his  eyes, 
an'—" 

The  Judge  waved  his  hand  at  her.  There  was  no 
use  in  speaking,  for  she  did  not  understand  a  word 
he  said.  However,  she  would  know  what  that  pro- 
hibitory gesture  meant.  Ordinarily,  she  was  a  sensi- 
ble woman.  Just  now  she  seemed  to  be  in  a  strange 
state  of  exaltation,  brought  on,  no  doubt,  by  the 
prospect  of  being  able  to  take  her  progeny  to  the 
country.  In  short,  she  was  getting  silly,  and  would 
better  go  home. 

"Will  you  come  in  and  have  some  breakfast?" 
asked  the  Judge,  motioning  hospitably  toward  the 
open  door. 

"Sir,"  she  said,  grandly,  "I  knows  my  duty. 
Never  a  Tingsby  but  Airy'll  enter  your  front  door, 
nor  back  door,  nuther.  But  we'll  process  up  an' 
have  a  look  at  the  stable  an'  Brick,  bein'  as  we're  all 
together,"  and  with  a  solemn  curtesy  of  farewell 
she  swept  her  brood  off  the  front  steps  and  round 
the  corner  of  the  house  toward  the  stable. 

"Higby,"  said  the  Judge,  entering  the  hall,  "go 
quickly  to  the  stable  with  a  basket  of  doughnuts 
and  the  supply  of  coffee  for  breakfast.  Tell  cook  to 
make  fresh  for  me." 


CHAPTER  XX 
THE  CAT  MAN  AND  THE  JUDGE'S  FAMILY 

LATE  one  afternoon  Barry  Mafferty,  the  cat  man, 
left  the  island  out  in  the  river  where  he  kept  his 
handsome  cats  for  sale,  and  quickly  rowed  himself 
toward  the  city. 

The  winter  was  passing  away,  the  spring  was 
coming.  There  was  a  feeling  in  the  air.  Barry 
could  not  describe  it,  as  fluent  as  he  was  in  the  use 
of  words. 

The  feeling  was  not  a  warm  feeling,  for  the  air 
was  still  chilly.  Perhaps  it  was  not  a  feeling,  but 
a  look — a  look  as  of  a  departing,  reluctant  season. 
Barry  did  not  know. 

"Anyhow,"  he  murmured  to  himself,  "the  cold 
days  are  going,  the  warm  ones  are  coming.  Some- 
thing tells  me,  something  turns  my  thoughts  to 
green  grass  and  running  water,  to  gardens  and 
flowers — it  is  faith." 

He  looked  over  his  shoulder  toward  the  city. 
"Just  a  good  size,"  he  murmured,  "not  small  enough 
to  be  stupid,  and  not  large  enough  to  be  oppressive. 
Looks  well  this  evening,  too — enveloped  in  that  red, 
smoky  haze." 

In  a  short  time  he  was  abreast  of  the  fish  market. 
The  old  caretaker  there  always  took  charge  of  his 
boat  when  he  came  to  the  city. 

Barry  sprang  on  the  slimy  stone  steps  leading  up 
to  the  wharf,  tied  his  boat  up,  looked  irritably  over 


236  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

his  shoulder  at  the  deaf  old  caretaker,  who  was 
shouting  his  name  and  a  greeting  to  him,  then  went 
quickly  up  to  the  little  cabin  near  the  big  fish  market. 

It  was  not  quite  dark  yet;  he  would  not  go  up 
to  the  city  until  it  was. 

The  present  caretaker  and  ex-fisherman  followed 
him  into  the  cabin. 

"What's  your  hurry?  You  spun  by  me  like  a 
flying  fish." 

"I  want  to  sit  down;  I'm  tired,"  said  Barry,  fling- 
ing his  cap  on  the  table. 

"Did  ye  row  standin'  ?"  roared  the  old  man. 

"No,  I  didn't,"  observed  Barry,  mildly. 

"What's  the  news  on  the  island  ?"  inquired  the  old 
fisherman,  sitting  down  before  his  guest. 

"What  kind  of  news  would  I  be  likely  to  have  but 
cat  news?"  inquired  Barry,  sarcastically. 

"Well,  give  us  your  cat  news.  I  see  the  Mayor's 
steam  launch  goin'  out  to  yer  island  yesterday.  Was 
he  wantin'  cats  fer  his  lady?" 

"Yes,  he  did  buy  one,"  said  Mafferty. 

"Hey?" 

"He  bought  one — or,  rather,  he  sent  his  man  for 
one — a  white  Angora  with  blue  eyes." 

"An'  how  much  would  ye  get  fer  such  a  beast?" 

"Twenty  dollars." 

"Twenty  dollars!"  echoed  the  caretaker,  in  dis- 
gust, "an'  I  drowns  'em  by  the  bagful." 

"You  don't  drown  Angoras." 

"Who  said  I  did?  I  drowns  common  cats,  gray 
cats,  tabby  cats,  yellow  cats,  an'  all  kinds  of  cats." 

"How  much  do  you  get  for  it?" 

"Ten  cents  apiece." 


THE  CAT  MAN  237 

"Do  you  drown  them  here  ?"  asked  Barry. 

"Yes;  do  you  s'pose  I'd  navigate  'em  out  to  the 
Atlantic?" 

"And  the  lobster  pens  are  close  by,"  observed 
Barry;  "disgusting!" 

The  old  man  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"You'll  soon  have  that  source  of  income  cut  off," 
continued  Barry. 

"What'llbecutoff?" 

"Your  cat  money.  Law !  how  deaf  the  old  crea- 
ture is !  The  city  is  goin  to  have  a  gas  box." 

"An'  what  kind  of  a  union  is  there  between  the 
city,  an'  gas,  an'  cats?"  inquired  the  old  man,  in 
quiet  exasperation. 

"Union  and  disunion.  In  future  anyone  having  a 
cat  to  destroy  can  take  it  to  the  City  Hall.  They've 
given  a  big  room  to  the  S.  P.  C.  You  deliver  your 
sick  cat,  or  your  old  cat,  or  your  superfluous  cat, 
and  a  man  puts  her  in  a  big  box  with  a  juicy  piece 
of  meat.  The  gas  is  turned  on,  pussy  eats  her  meat, 
gets  sleepy,  lies  down,  and  dies." 

The  old  fisherman  pounded  the  table  with  his  fist. 
"An'  who's  at  the  bottom  of  that  hugger-mugger 
business  ?" 

"Mrs.  Tom  Everest." 

"I  might  'a'  known  it — I  might  'a'  guessed.  Tak- 
in'  the  bread  out  of  the  mouth  of  an  honest  man." 

"How  about  the  demoralizing  effect  on  children, 
of  screaming  cats  dragged  through  the  city  in 
bags?" 

"Screaming  fish  tails !    It  don't  hurt  'em." 

"How  would  you  like  to  be  the  cat?"  asked  Barry, 
slyly. 


238  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"She's  always  interferin',"  said  the  old  man,  pas- 
sionately; "she's  always  stickin'  her  little  nose  into 
every  man's  business." 

"Who  runs  to  help  me  when  I'm  ill?"  inquired 
Barry,  mischievously. 

The  old  man  showed  his  teeth  at  him. 

"Who  always  pays  my  doctor's  bill?"  pursued 
Barry,  in  his  clear  voice. 

"I've  jined  a  benevolent  society,"  shouted  the 
old  man ;  "she  aint  a-goin'  to  coddle  me  any  more." 

"What  about  your  grandchild?"  said  Barry. 
"What  about  that  imp  Cracker  that  no  one  else  can 
manage?" 

The  old  man's  head  sank,  and  he  looked  thought- 
ful. 

"How  many  times  has  she  saved  him  from  the 
police  court?  Old  Cracker,  you  are  an  ungrateful 
wretch.  Come  now,  aint  you?" 

The  poor  old  fellow's  head  sank  lower.  His  young 
grandchild  was  all  he  had  in  the  world.  "I  believe 
I  be,"  he  said,  slowly.  "I  believe  I  be." 

Barry  looked  out  the  window.  "  'Most  dark ;  I 
can  be  going.  Seen  any  strangers  about,  Cracker, 
senior?"  he  asked,  as  he  turned  his  coat  collar  well 
up  about  his  ears  and  pulled  his  cap  down  over  his 
eyes. 

"No,  no — no  strangers,  only  fish,"  replied  the 
caretaker;  only  fish,  fish,  fish,"  and  Barry  left  him 
mumbling  to  himself. 

With  a  quick,  alert  step  the  dark-featured,  mid- 
dle-aged man  left  River  Street,  went  up  one  of  the 
slightly  ascending  side  streets  that  led  to  Broadway, 
quickly  crossed  the  brilliantly  lighted  and  crowded 


THE  CAT  MAN  239 

thoroughfare,  and  struck  into  a  succession  of  quiet 
streets  that  finally  led  him  to  Grand  Avenue. 

Little  by  little  the  appearance  of  the  houses  had 
improved,  until  here  on  Grand  Avenue  he  found 
himself  among  mansions. 

Arrived  near  Judge  Bancroft's  house,  he  walked 
more  slowly,  then  suddenly  he  turned,  and  retracing 
his  steps  walked  up  the  driveway  leading  to  the 
stable. 

His  keen  eyes  scrutinized  every  window  of  the 
house.  Here  and  there  one  was  open.  "They  all 
like  fresh  air,"  he  murmured.  Under  one  open  win- 
dow he  paused.  He  could  hear  the  sound  of  voices. 
Dallas  was  speaking — Dallas  the  clever  English  boy 
that  the  Judge  had  adopted — and  he  was  scolding 
Bethany,  dear  little  Bethany. 

Barry's  face  softened.  He  was  very  much  at- 
tached to  that  child.  Ever  since  he  had  known  her 
she  had  been  sweet  and  gentle  with  him — first  at 
Mrs.  Tingsby's,  and  now  when  he  occasionally  saw 
her  with  the  Judge.  Dear  little  Bethany — the  only 
little  girl  he  knew  in  Riverport  that  he  cared  much 
about,  except  poor  Airy,  and  his  face  softened  still 
further.  What  was  Dallas  worrying  her  about? 

They  seemed  to  be  standing  by  one  of  the  open 
parlor  windows.  "Bethany,"  Dallas  was  saying, 
severely,  "I  have  brought  you  in  here  to  scold  you. 
I  think  you  are  a  selfish  little  girl." 

"I  don't  feel  selfish,"  remarked  Bethany,  whim- 
peringly. 

"Well,  you  act  so.  I  consider  you  the  most  selfish 
person  in  this  household.  Everyone  in  the  family 
has  got  into  the  way  of  pleasing  you  from  morning 


240  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

till  night,  and  it  is  having  a  bad  effect  on  you.  I 
consider  that  you  treated  Airy  very  shabbily  this 
afternoon." 

"I  didn't  do  anything,"  said  Bethany,  resentfully. 

"That  is  just  it — you  didn't  do  anything.  Now, 
you  know  as  well  as  I  do  that  for  weeks  I  have  been 
teaching  Airy,  and  that  she  has  improved  immensely 
— just  immensely.  She  called  this  afternoon,  and 
naturally  I  was  anxious  to  show  her  off  to  the 
Judge.  I  took  pains  to  have  her  meet  you  when  you 
came  from  school,  and  what  did  you  do?" 

"You  didn't  tell  me  what  to  do?"  said  Bethany, 
irritably. 

"Didn't  tell  you?  Of  course  not.  I  hoped  that 
your  own  kind  heart  would  tell  you.  You  saw  that 
Airy  was  dying  to  play  with  you.  Why  didn't  you 
invite  her  to  stay?" 

Bethany  burst  out  with  an  intense  remark,  "I 
don't  like  Airy." 

"Neither  do  I,  but  is  that  an  excuse?  Suppose  I 
stopped  teaching  her  because  I  did  not  like  her?" 

"I'm  going  to  tell  Daddy  Grandpa  how  you  are 
scolding  me,"  remarked  Bethany,  plaintively. 

"I  am  delighted  to  hear  it.  His  calm,  judicial 
mind  will  decide  between  us.  I  just  wanted  him  to 
know,  but  I  wouldn't  go  to  him,  because  I  hate  to 
carry  tales.  And  now  you  may  go,  Miss  Selfish- 
ness. My  interview  with  you  is  over." 

Barry,  under  the  window,  laughed  to  himself, 
then  listened  as  he  heard  the  Judge's  kind  voice: 
"Children,  what  are  you  sparring  about  here  in  this 
lonely  room  ?" 

"O,  Daddy  Grandpa,"  exclaimed  Bethany — and 


THE  CAT  MAN  241 

Barry  could  imagine  her  running  to  throw  herself 
into  the  arms  of  her  adopted  grandfather,  "am  I  a 
selfish  creature?" 

The  Judge's  clear  tones  floated  out  the  window, 
"Certainly — we  all  are." 

"But  Dallas  says  I  am  just  un — un — it  begins 
with  'un'  and  ends  with  'able.'  " 

"So  we  all  are,"  said  the  Judge ;  "so  we  all  are." 

"But  he  says  I've  been  very  hateful  to  Airy,  Dad- 
dy Grandpa." 

"So  have  we  all  been,"  said  the  Judge,  cheerily, 
"so  have  we  all  been.  She  is  longing  to  come  here. 
She  meets  me  in  the  street,  and  she  throws  out  hints. 
Dallas,  invite  your  pupil  to  visit  us  any  hour  of  any 
day,  or  to  any  meal.  She  does  you  credit." 

Barry  could  hear  the  boy's  deeply  gratified 
"Thank  you,  sir,"  then  the  voices  were  hushed  for 
him,  for  the  Judge  said,  "Please  close  that  window, 
my  boy.  Bethany's  frock  is  thin." 

With  a  smile  Barry  went  on  his  way  to  the  stable. 
The  lights  were  out  here,  everything  was  quiet,  but 
he  saw  a  glimmer  from  Brick's  room. 

"Hello!"  he  called,  and  he  threw  a  handful  of 
gravel  against  the  window.  "Brick,  ahoy!" 

Brick  ran  up  the  blind,  opened  the  window,  and 
thrust  out  a  cautious  head. 

"Dat  you,  Mistah  Mafferty?" 

"Yes,  Brick;  come  down  and  let  me  in." 

The  colored  boy  ran  nimbly  down  the  stairs, 
pressed  a  button,  and  lighting  up  the  lower  part  of 
the  stable  ushered  his  friend  in. 

"Come  up  to  your  room,"  said  Barry,  command- 
ingly,  and  he  strode  ahead  of  the  lad.  Brick,  grin- 


242  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

ning  from  ear  to  ear  at  the  honor  conferred  upon 
him — for  this  was  the  second  time  that  Barry  had 
visited  him  within  a  week — followed  close  at  his 
heels. 

When  they  got  into  his  snug  little  bedroom  Barry 
sat  down  and  looked  about  him.  Brick  was  in  the 
act  of  changing  his  clothes. 

"What  are  you  dressing  up  for,  this  time  of 
night?"  inquired  Barry,  suspiciously.  "You  ought 
to  be  going  to  bed." 

"I  aint  dressin'  up ;  I'se  dressing  down,"  giggled 
Brick.  "I'se  goin'  fo'  a  walk,  mistah,  an'  I  didn' 
want  fo'  to  soil  my  buttins,"  and  he  glanced  lov- 
ingly at  the  bespangled  garment  of  the  bed. 

"Where  are  you  going?" 

"Down  to  River  Street.  I'se  pinin'  to  see  my  ole 
friens.  Me  an'  Bylow's  not  been  down  fo'  about 
a  thousan'  meal  times,"  and  he  gave  a  push  with 
his  foot  toward  the  plump  sleeping  dog. 

"He  don't  want  to  go,"  observed  Barry,  dryly. 

"I  guess  you're  right,  mistah.  I  guess  Bylow  be 
jus'  as  much  glorified  to  stay  to  hum,  but,  bless  you, 
Brick  don'  care,"  and  he  thrust  his  arms  into  a 
shabby  coat  that  he  took  from  a  hook  on  the  wall. 

"How  many  coats  have  you  without  buttons?" 
asked  Barry,  curiously. 

"Dere's  dis  fellow,"  said  Brick,  laying  his  hand 
on  his  chest,  "an'  dat  fellow,"  and  he  brought  one 
from  the  closet,  "an*  de  odder  fellow,"  and  he 
pointed  to  one  that  Bylow  lay  on. 

"Let's  see  them  all  lying  on  the  bed  together," 
said  Barry,  in  an  infantile  way. 

Brick  laughed  in  silly  glee.    It  was  delightful  to 


THE  CAT  MAN  243 

see  this  fine  gentleman — for  such  the  cat  man  was  to 
him — taking  such  an  interest  in  his  wardrobe.  He 
stripped  off  the  coat  he  had  on,  brought  another 
from  the  closet,  pulled  the  one  out  from  under  the 
protesting  Bylow,  and  laid  them  on  the  bed. 

"And  how  many  coats  have  you  with  buttons?" 
asked  Barry. 

"Only  two,  mistah;  de  fust  best  an'  de  second 
best." 

Barry  calmly  rolled  the  three  buttonless  coats  to- 
gether and  put  them  under  his  arm. 

"Were  you  going  to  River  Street  to  see  anyone 
in  particular?" 

"No,  mistah — jes'  thought  I'd  sauntah  roun'. 
Mebbe  call  on  Mis'  Tingsby;  but,  law  me,  dis  nig- 
gah  furgits.  She  aint  dah.  She's  moved  to  de  lubley 
green  country." 

"Brick,"  said  Barry,  seriously,  "you  are  happy 
here?" 

Brick  made  a  face.   / 

"O,  excuse  me,"  continued  Barry,  "I  forgot.  Of 
course  you  are  not  happy.  You  long  for  the  old  free 
life — for  dirt  and  rags,  and  an  empty  stomach,  for 
kicks  instead  of  thanks." 

Brick  hung  his  head.  He  had  sense  enough  to 
know  when  he  was  being  laughed  at. 

"Sure  enough,  mistah,"  he  said,  "de  meals  dey 
didn't  come  reglah  in  dose  days.  Dey  played 
chase." 

"And  the  dirty,  low  people.  How  you  must  have 
enjoyed  living  with  them.  And  the  tramp,  your 
master — what  a  sweet  creature !" 

"He  used  to  wallop  Brick  awful,"  and  the  boy 


244  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

ruefully  rubbed  his  shoulder.  'Tse  glad  I  runned 
away  from  him." 

"Now,  look  here,  Brick,"  said  Barry,  roughly, 
"I  think  you  are  a  fool.  You've  got  a  snug  berth 
here.  Just  as  sure  as  you  go  monkeying  round 
River  Street  you'll  lose  it.  What  did  I  tell  you  two 
days  ago?" 

"You  tole  me  to  stay  in  de  house  at  night  and  let 
de  dog  loose  in  de  yahd,  and  not  to  take  up  wid 
strangers." 

"And  you're  doing  all  that,  aren't  you?"  said 
Barry,  sarcastically. 

Brick  stared  earnestly  at  him  for  a  few  seconds, 
then  he  said,  "Mistah,  dere  aint  one  thing  Brick  cries 
fo',  but  one." 

"And  what  is  that,  you  goose  ?" 

"He  can't  do  what  he  likes,"  said  the  boy,  seri- 
ously. "Now,  Brick,  he  always  likes  his  own  way. 
An'  his  own  way  aint  Roblee  way,  nor  Jedge  way, 
nor  Mastah  Titus  way,  nor  Mistah  Mafferty  way." 

"You  idiot!  Who  does  get  his  own  way  in  the 
world?" 

"De  tramp,"  said  Brick,  solemnly,  "he  do." 

"Does  he?"  said  Barry,  "does  he?  Who  is  the 
tramp  always  afraid  of?" 

"He  aint  afraid  of  no  one  but  hissef." 

"He  is.  Think  now.  Search  that  crack-brained 
memory  of  yours." 

"Do  you  mean  the  p'lice?"  asked  Brick,  and  from 
his  slightly  open  mouth  Barry  caught  a  gleam  of 
pink  gums  and  white  ivory. 

"Of  course  I  do.  He's  mortally  afraid  of 
him." 


THE  CAT  MAN  245 

"Dat's  true,  dat's  true,"  and  Brick  burst  into  a 
guffaw  of  laughter.  "De  p'liceman  comes,  de  tramp 
runs,  if  he  aint  squared  him,  an'  it  takes  lots  of  cash 
to  square  de  whole  p'lice  of  dis  here  country." 

"Don't  you  leave  this  place,"  said  Barry,  warn- 
ingly. 

"Mistah,"  said  the  boy,  and  his  grin  vanished, 
"dere's  two  Bricks.  One  Brick  he  say,  'Boy,  don' 
you  get  out  o'  smell  o'  dose  fleshpots  in  de  Jedge's 
kitchen.'  De  odder  Brick  he  say,  'Run,  boy,  run — 
dere's  fun  in  de  city — run,  boy,  run.' ' 

"It's  the  button  boy  that  says  stay,  isn't  it?"  in- 
quired Barry,  with  a  glance  at  Brick's  official 
garments  on  the  bed. 

"Yes,  sah;  dose  buttons  is  anchors.  Brick  can't 
run  wid  dem.  Dey  is  ruspectability." 

"Then  you'll  have  to  stay,"  said  Barry,  getting 
up  and  moving  toward  the  door,  "for  I'm  going  to 
carry  off  your  plain  clothes." 

Brick  followed  him  anxiously.  "Mistah,  you  don' 
lay  out  f o'  to  take  away  po'  Brick's  wardrobe  ?" 

"Yes,  I  do  lay  out  for  to  do  that  very  thing,  and 
if  you  say  a  word  to  anyone  about  it  I'll  give  you 
such  a  walloping  that  you  won't  be  able  to  stand 
up  for  a  week." 

"An*  Brick  can't  go  anywhere  widout  dem  but- 
tins,"  said  the  boy,  sadly  looking  at  his  glistening 
coat  on  the  bed.  "Ef  he  'pears  in  River  Street  dey'll 
say,  'Heah  comes  de  Jedge's  boy.' ' 

"If  you  appear  in  River  Street  in  that  coat,"  said 
Barry,  firmly,  "I'll  tell  you  what  will  happen.  I'm 
going  to  see  Git  McGlory  to-night.  You  know 
Git?" 


246  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"Know  his  fisties,"  said  Brick,  meekly.  "De're 
like  little  potato  barrels." 

"Well,  I'm  going  to  tell  Git  that  I'm  interested  in 
a  certain  colored  boy  called  Brick  that  he  knows 
well.  I'm  going  to  say,  'Git,  if  you  see  that  boy  on 
River  Street  just  you  shake  your  fists  at  him,  and 
send  him  home.  He's  got  a  good  home,  and  I  don't 
mean  he  shall  leave  it/  ' 

Brick  shuddered.  "Mistah,  aint  I  evah  goin'  to 
git  my  does  back?" 

"Yes,  if  you  behave  yourself;  but  mind,  I'm 
watching  you.  If  you  cut  one  button  off  your 
coats,  or  if  you  go  in  one  place  where  you'd  be 
ashamed  to  have  the  Judge  see  you,  I'll  be  on  your 
track.  Mind  that  now,"  and  with  a  determined 
shake  of  his  head  he  opened  the  door  to  go 
out. 

"By  the  way,"  he  said,  sticking  his  head  inside 
the  room  again,  "have  you  seen  anything  more  of 
that  stranger  who  came  here  the  other  evening 
inquiring  for  the  Brown's  coachman?" 

"No,"  said  the  boy,  seriously,  "I  aint." 

"Would  you  know  him  if  you  saw  him  in  broad 
daylight?" 

"No,  sah." 

"Well,  don't  you  have  anything  to  do  with  him," 
said  Barry,  somewhat  unreasonably,  and  he  went 
away. 

Left  alone,  Brick  stood  quietly  in  the  middle  of 
the  floor  for  a  few  minutes.  Then  he  began  to 
shudder,  at  first  in  pretense,  then  in  reality.  Then 
he  said  a  number  of  charms.  Not  all  the  church- 
going  and  Sunday  school  teaching  that  he  had  had 


THE  CAT  MAN  247 

could  shake  his  faith  in  them.  Finally  he  jumped 
into  bed  with  all  his  clothes  on,  and  repeating, 
"Snake  hiss,  and  toad  turn,  water  bless  me  ere  I 
burn !"  he  called  Bylow  the  dog  to  lie  closer  under 
the  bed,  then  drawing  the  blanket  over  his  head 
shiveringly  tried  to  go  to  sleep. 


MRS.  TOM  EVEREST  was  putting  her  baby  to  bed. 
Surely  there  never  was  such  a  provoking  baby.  He 
laughed,  and  played,  and  gurgled  in  his  throat,  he 
caught  her  hands  in  his  own,  he  tried  to  bite  his 
toes,  he  lapped  at  a  little  black  bag  she  wore  on  her 
belt;  in  short,  he  was  so  naughty  that  at  last  she 
said  seriously,  "Baby,  if  you  don't  lie  down  mother 
will  slap  your  nannies." 

At  this  he  shouted  with  laughter.  He  clapped  his 
offending  hands,  he  made  a  wild  dash  at  her  with 
his  mouth,  then  suddenly  there  was  silence.  He 
was  dead  tired ;  all  day  he  had  been  just  as  bad  as 
he  could  be.  He  was  braving  the  old  Sleep  Man, 
and  now,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  he  had  suc- 
cumbed. One  tired  yawn,  one  last  exquisite  baby 
look  of  perfect  trust  in  the  young  mother  bending 
over  him,  and  Tom  junior  was  off  for  Sleepy  Town. 

Mrs.  Tom  laid  the  downy  head  on  the  pillow,  she 
drew  the  coverlet  over  the  pink  limbs,  she  dropped 
a  kiss,  light  as  thistle  down,  on  the  moist  cheek. 
How  could  she  leave  him,  her  one  baby,  her  treas- 
ure, and  she  was  fussing  over  him  in  the  unique  way 
that  mothers  have  when  there  was  a  knock  at  the 
door. 

"What  is  it,  Daisy?"  she  whispered,  turning  her 
head. 


MAFFERTY  UNFOLDS  A  PLOT  249 

"Mr.  Mafferty,  ma'am,"  said  the  little  maid;  "in 
the  parlor.  Wants  to  see  you  special." 

"Tell  him  I  will  come  at  once,"  and  only  waiting 
to  adjust  a  screen  about  baby's  tiny  bed,  young  Mrs. 
Everest  tripped  downstairs. 

"How  do  you  do,  Barry?"  she  said,  extending  a 
hand  with  a  frank  girlish  smile,  as  she  entered  the 
large,  comfortable,  but  plainly  furnished  room. 

"Good  evening,"  he  replied,  gravely. 

"You  have  something  on  your  mind,  Barry,"  she 
said,  shrewdly.  "Come,  now,  out  with  it  to  your 
mother  confessor." 

He  gave  her  a  glance  that  partook  largely  of  the 
nature  of  adoration. 

"Seems  like  the  other  day,"  he  said,  dreamily, 
"that  I  was  sauntering  into  this  town  a  lazy,  good- 
for-nothing,  despised  tramp." 

Mrs.  Everest  smiled.  "I  have  almost  forgotten 
that  brown-faced  man  out  by  the  iron  works." 

"I'll  never  forget  how  you  looked  that  day,"  he 
said,  earnestly,  "such  a  clean,  sweet  slip  of  a  girl." 

"Four  years  ago,  Barry,"  she  said,  shaking  her 
head;  "four  years  ago." 

"And  I  had  the  impudence  to  ask  you  for  money," 
he  went  on,  "and  worse,  to  threaten  you,  and  you 
forgave  me,  and  brought  me  in  to  town  and  gave  me 
shelter  and  food.  May  the  Lord  bless  you  for  it !" 

"I  have  my  reward  now,"  she  said,  quietly.  "You 
don't  know  what  a  pleasure  it  is  to  me  to  see  you 
living  happily  out  on  the  island  with  your  wife.  She 
is  a  good  woman,  Barry." 

"Too  good  for  me,"  he  said,  bitterly,  "for  I  give 
her  lots  of  trouble  yet." 


250  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"But,  Barry,  you  are  doing  better." 

"I  never  was  a  criminal,"  he  said,  seriously. 
"Heaven  forgive  me  for  saying  it,  but  I  believe  that 
the  real,  genuine  criminal  rarely  reforms.  I  was 
and  am  a  drunkard.  It  seems  as  if  I  can't  get  rid 
of  the  thirst." 

"Pray  to  God,  Barry,  and  work  hard  yourself." 

"O,  it's  all  very  well  for  you,"  he  said,  with  an 
impatient  shake  of  his  head.  "You  have  a  fresh 
heart  and  soul.  Mine  are  old,  and  dull,  and  hard. 
Intellectually  I  see  things  as  clearly  as  ever,  but 
when  it  comes  to  feeling — " 

"Barry,"  she  interrupted,  gently,  "you  are  too 
hard  on  yourself." 

He  clenched  one  hand  and  brought  it  down  softly 
on  the  other.  Mrs.  Everest,  keep  the  children  inno- 
cent and  tender.  That's  my  thought  about  them. 
Now  I've  come  to  speak  to  you  to-night  about  what 
I  fear  is  a  plot  against  a  little  child.  There's  no 
one  near  to  hear  us,  is  there?"  and  he  looked  fear- 
fully over  his  shoulder. 

"No  one,  Barry.    You  may  speak  freely." 

He  threw  himself  back  in  his  chair  with  a  sigh 
of  relief.  "I've  been  under  tension  for  the  last  two 
days.  Queer,  isn't  it,  what  different  kinds  of  people 
there  are  in  the  world.  Seems  as  if  the  Lord  makes 
some  of  us  better  than  others.  Now  you  live  here  in 
this  vile  street  like  a  lily  growing  out  of  mud.  You 
know  the  mud  is  here,  but  it  doesn't  contaminate 
you." 

"Some  one  says  that  familiarity  with  vice  is  not 
necessarily  pollution,"  murmured  Mrs.  Everest, 
gently.  "The  lily  regrets  her  environment,  but  her 


MAFFERTY  UNFOLDS  A  PLOT  251 

roots  running  out  and  fresh  soil  introduced  may 
purify  the  mud." 

"The  street  is  better  than  it  used  to  be,  fifty  per 
cent,"  he  said,  "but  I  must  get  on  with  my  story. 
I  hate  to  speak  to  you  of  the  underworld,  but  it 
exists.  Even  the  children  know  it.  Some  persons 
are  bad  and  make  their  living  off  others.  Now,  as 
I  said  before,  I  never  was  a  criminal.  In  fact,  I 
was  too  low  down  for  one,  for  I  didn't  want  to 
work.  But  traveling  about  the  country  I  used  to 
hear  about  famous  sharpers.  I  was  as  dust  under 
their  feet,  but  when  I  would  get  into  a  tramp's 
refuge  of  any  kind  I  used  to  hear  them  talking  of 
this  one  and  that  who  had  distinguished  himself  in 
the  world  of  crime — you  are  listening,  are  you?" 
and  he  peered  forward  to  look  at  Mrs.  Everest's 
face. 

"Yes,  Barry,  listening  and  interested,  but  the 
light  from  that  hall  gas  is  not  enough.  I  will  light 
the  lamp  on  this  table,"  and  she  took  off  its  glass 
shade. 

"Once,  in  Boston,"  continued  Barry,  when  she 
sat  down  again  opposite  him,  "I  had  one  of  the 
best-known  all-round  criminals  in  the  country 
pointed  out  to  me.  They  said  he  could  do  any- 
thing, and  he  was  only  a  young  fellow.  I  saw  him 
again  later  in  the  year  in  a  small  New  Hampshire 
town.  He  was  running  away  from  justice,  and  the 
chase  was  getting  hot.  I  recognized  him,  accosted 
him,  and  helped  him.  He  laid  over  a  few  days  in  a 
shanty  in  the  woods  I  was  occupying,  and  proud 
enough  I  was  of  the  honor,  though  at  the  same  time, 
low-down  tramp  as  I  was,  I  had  a  kind  of  contempt 


252  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

for  him.  But  it  was  an  honor  to  boast  of  having 
been  the  host  of  Jim  Smalley." 

"Poor  Barry!"  murmured  Mrs.  Everest,  sympa- 
thetically. 

"Now  from  that  day  till  two  days  ago  I  have  never 
set  eyes  on  him,"  pursued  Barry.  "But  I've  seen 
him  on  Grand  Avenue.  You  know  I  took  a  liking 
to  Judge  Bancroft,  and  when  I  come  to  the  city  my 
feet  always  carry  me  up  to  take  a  turn  round  his 
house.  Well,  the  other  day  I  was  getting  near.  I 
was  plodding  along  by  Saint  Mark's  Church,  when 
suddenly  I  saw  a  man  in  front  of  me  sauntering 
along,  smoking  a  cigarette." 

"Surely  it  wasn't  Smalley?"  said  Mrs.  Everest, 
excitedly. 

"Wait  a  bit,"  replied  Barry,  with  a  gratified  smile 
to  think  that  he  had  aroused  her  interest.  "I  was 
gazing  at  him  as  one  will  gaze  at  a  fellow  stroller, 
when  he  quietly  turned  his  head  in  the  direction  of 
the  Judge's  house.  I  felt  something  cold  come  over 
me.  It  was  Smalley." 

"Just  imagine!"  exclaimed  his  companion. 

"Mrs.  Everest,"  he  said,  earnestly,  "I  can't  tell 
you  how  frightened  I  was  and  how  glad.  I  felt  as 
if  a  snake  had  uprisen  in  my  path,  and  I  was  glad 
that  I  felt  it  was  a  snake.  'Brace  up,  Barry,'  I  said 
to  myself,  'you're  getting  good.  Once  upon  a  time 
a  meeting  with  the  redoubtable  Smalley  would  have 
afforded  you  amusement.  Now  your  one  thought  is 
to  get  away  from  him.' ' 

"Good  Barry!"  said  Mrs.  Everest,  approvingly. 

"My  dear  young  lady,"  continued  Barry,  "have 
you  ever  heard  that  a  caged  bird  will  dash  itself 


MAFFERTY  UNFOLDS  A  PLOT  253 

against  the  bars  of  its  prison  when  it  sees  an  hered- 
itary enemy  of  its  kind  flying  overhead?" 

"No,"  she  replied,  curiously;  "why  does  it  do  it?" 

"Instinct,  intuition.  Now,  I  believe — indeed, 
criminologists  tell  us — that  an  innocent  child  or  a 
good  man  or  woman  will  often  feel  a  strange,  invol- 
untary dislike  for  an  evil  person,  even  when  there  is 
no  proof  of  evil  apparent.  Now,  Smalley  is  rather 
an  artless-looking  young  man.  He  has  not  a  vicious 
face,  and  nothing  that  has  happened  for  a  long  time 
pleased  me  as  much  as  my  shrinking  from  him." 

Mrs.  Everest  smiled  sympathetically,  and  as  a 
sudden  thought  occurred  to  him  he  went  on :  "When 
I  spoke  of  the  intuitive  dislike  of  the  innocent  for 
the  guilty,  just  now,  I  was  not  thinking  of  myself, 
but  of  you,  or  Bethany,  for  example.  Alas!  I  am 
only  half  reformed." 

"But  you  are  sufficiently  reformed  to  hate  Smal- 
ley and  his  evil  ways." 

"That  I  am,"  he  said,  earnestly.  "I  hope  that  he 
will  be  brought  to  confusion." 

"And  repentance." 

"From  my  heart — if  it  is  possible;  but  I  fear, 
I  fear!"  and  he  shook  his  head  sadly. 

"I  suppose  your  first  thought  was  to  run  away 
from  him." 

"It  was,  but  my  second  was  to  discover  if  he  had 
any  object  in  being  in  that  neighborhood.  He  had 
— I  knew  my  man  well.  He  gave  careless  glances 
at  the  houses  of  the  Judge's  neighbors.  His  look 
at  one  hundred  and  ten  was  long,  shrewd,  and  cal- 
culating. 'There's  mischief  afoot,'  I  said  to  my- 
self; 'I  wonder  what  it  is.'  I  didn't  want  him  to  see 


254  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

me,  and  yet  if  he  had  heard  me  coming  I  didn't  want 
to  stop.  It  was  a  raw,  east-windy  day,  and  as  good 
luck  would  have  it  I  had  on  the  fur-lined  coat  the 
Judge  sent  me  and  the  fur  cap  I  found  in  the  pocket 
of  it.  I  put  up  a  hand,  turned  up  my  collar,  pulled 
down  my  cap,  then  I  walked  straight  on.  I  thought 
of  stopping  and  taking  a  memorandum  book  out  of 
my  pocket  as  if  to  consult  it,  but  I  didn't.  It  might 
have  attracted  Smalley's  attention — they  say  he  has 
an  extra  sense.  Well,  he  walked  on  in  front  of  me, 
but  I  saw  him  give  another  look  at  the  Judge's 
house.  Some  people  don't  see  anything  in  a  look. 
Smalley's  spoke  volumes  to  me.  He  had  some  par- 
ticular reason  for  singling  out  number  one  hundred 
and  ten.  Then,  to  confirm  my  suspicion,  he  gave 
a  sidelong  glance  up  the  driveway  to  the  stable.  He 
was  dying  to  go  up  there,  but  he  didn't  like  to." 

"How  little  he  thought  you  were  watching  him !" 

"Yes,  he  hadn't  a  suspicion  of  me.  I  had  to  pass 
him,  he  was  going  so  slowly.  I  felt  him  look  me 
all  over." 

"And  did  he  recognize  you  ?"  she  inquired,  breath- 
lessly. 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  My  flesh  stopped  crawling.  I 
was  a  relieved  man.  You  see,  my  appearance  was 
so  different  from  that  of  the  dirty  tramp  he  had 
met,  and  then  he  would  never  expect  to  find  me 
wearing  good  clothes  and  walking  on  a  swell  ave- 
nue, and  finally  he  would  never  expect  to  meet  me 
at  all — would  never  think  of  me." 

"But,  Barry,"  said  Mrs.  Everest,  wonderingly, 
"suppose  he  had  recognized  you.  What  harm  could 
he  do?" 


MAFFERTY  UNFOLDS  A  PLOT  255 

"No  harm,  but  he  could  make  it  mighty  uncom- 
fortable for  me.  If  he  had  found  out  I  was  trying  to 
reform  a  word  from  him  would  have  sent  every 
New  England  tramp  this  way  to  quarter  themselves 
on  me,  and  if  I  refused  to  harbor  them  to  make  up 
ugly  stories  about  me.  Lies  are  the  breath  of  life 
to  trampdom." 

"Well,  what  happened?  This  is  very  interest- 
ing !"  she  exclaimed,  with  her  eyes  shining.  "Please 
hurry  on,  Barry." 

"My !  but  you  have  a  good  heart,"  the  man  said, 
admiringly.  "I  am  old  enough  to  be  your  father, 
but  I  always  feel  as  if  you  were  my  mother." 

"Go  on,  go  on,"  she  reiterated,  in  girlish  impa- 
tience; "don't  stop  to  analyze  your  feelings.  You 
can  do  that  some  other  time.  What  else  did  Smalley 
do?" 

"He  didn't  do  anything  more  just  then,  and  you 
will  think  that  up  to  this  time  he  had  done  very 
little  to  justify  my  suspicion  of  him.  However,  I 
returned  to  the  Judge's  after  dark.  Roblee  had 
gone  to  bed,  but  Brick,  like  all  niggers,  likes  to  sit 
up  late.  Presently  we  heard  a  knocking  below.  I 
told  Brick  to  open  the  window  and  put  his  head  out. 
He  said,  'Who's  dere?'  and  you  know  whose  voice 
replied." 

"Smalley's,"  she  returned,  promptly. 

"Yes,  Smalley's.  He  asked,  as  smooth  as  silk, 
'Is  Thomas  in?' 

"  'What  Thomas  is  dat?'  asked  Brick. 

"  'Thomas  the  coachman,'  replied  Smalley. 

"I  gave  Brick  a  pull.  'Brick/  I  said,  'that's  a 
bad  fellow.  Set  Bylow  on  him.' 


256  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"  'Isn't  this  Mr.  Brown's  ?'  Smalley  was  inquiring 
in  guileless  surprise. 

"  'No,  it  aint  Mistah  Brown's/  replied  Brick,  'but 
dis  here  dog'll  take  you  to  Mistah  Brown,'  and  he 
rattled  downstairs  with  Bylow. 

"Smalley  ran,  and  Bylow  ran.  I  knew  the  dog 
wouldn't  hurt  him,  but  he  did  some  ripping.  When 
he  and  Brick  came  back  I  pulled  a  piece  of  cloth 
from  between  the  dog's  jaws.  I  recognized  it  as  a 
sample  of  Smalley's  smart  trousers.  He  wouldn't 
do  any  more  reconnoitring  round  the  Judge's  house 
after  dark." 

Mrs.  Everest  looked  puzzled.  "I  don't  quite  un- 
derstand, Barry." 

"Smalley  wanted  to  see  the  back  of  the  house 
and  to  find  out  what  kind  of  a  watch  was  kept  in  the 
stable,  and  if  it  would  be  easy  to  enter  the  Judge's 
house  at  night.  I  think  Bylow  informed  him  on 
these  questions.  He  came  early  in  the  evening,  so 
as  not  to  risk  his  reputation  by  prowling  round  it 
later.  O,  he  is  a  clever  scamp  is  Smalley.  As  soon 
as  we  got  rid  of  him  I  hurried  down  to  the  public 
library.  Now  my  fears  were  fulfilled.  Smalley 
had  designs  upon  something  or  some  one  at  one 
hundred  and  ten.  In  the  library  I  think  I  found  the 
clew  to  Smalley's  presence  here." 

"And  what  was  it?" 

He  looked  round,  then  got  up,  went  to  the  door, 
and  coming  back  again  sat  down  and  spoke  in  a 
lower  voice:  "You  don't  know  little  Bethany's 
origin  ?" 

"No,  except  that  her  mother  was  a  lady." 

"Well,  I  do.     Mrs.  Tingsby  was  very  much  ex- 


MAFFERTY  UNFOLDS  A  PLOT  257 

cited  at  the  time  the  Judge  took  her,  and  little  by 
little  I  got  the  whole  story  from  her.  Bethany's 
father  was  a  scamp,  a  semi-criminal,  or  possibly  a 
whole  one.  He  was  of  good  stock,  though.  Her 
mother  was  a  Hittaker." 

"Of  Hittaker's  soap?" 

"The  same.  There  were  two  Hittaker  brothers. 
One  made  money,  the  other  didn't.  Bethany's 
grandfather  was  the  unfortunate  one.  However, 
his  rich  brother  helped  him  during  his  lifetime.  But 
he  wouldn't  help  his  children,  who  are  now  all  dead. 
The  rich  Hittaker  is  about  as  mean  a  man  that  ever 
lived.  He  was  only  good  to  his  own.  Now,  what 
do  you  think  I  found  in  the  New  York  papers  ?" 

"Something  about  the  Hittakers,  of  course,"  re- 
plied Mrs.  Everest. 

"Just  so.  A  week  ago  a  terrible  accident  occurred 
to  old  Hittaker's  daughter,  her  husband,  and  chil- 
dren. His  son-in-law  came  from  Canada,  and  he 
had  taken  his  wife  and  children  home  on  a  visit. 
They  went  sleighing;  the  ice  was  rotten  on  a  river 
or  lake — I  forget  which — that  they  crossed,  or, 
rather,  I  believe  it  was  an  airhole  they  got  into.  To 
tell  the  truth,  I  read  the  thing  in  such  a  hurry  lest 
Smalley  should  come  upon  me  that  I  don't  remem- 
ber the  details.  Anyhow,  they  were  all  drowned — 
Hittaker's  daughter,  her  husband,  and  children." 

"Dreadful !"  murmured  Mrs.  Everest,  with  a  con- 
traction of  her  brows.  "Who  can  understand  sor- 
row like  that?" 

"The  papers  all  agreed  in  one  thing,"  continued 
Barry,  grimly,  "that  the  old  man  was  floored.  You 
see,  he  had  staked  all  on  his  only  child  and  her 


258  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

children.  Now  they  are  taken  from  him,  and  he 
has  nothing  left." 

He  was  silent  for  a  few  seconds,  and  Mrs.  Ever- 
est said,  seriously,  "What  has  this  to  do  with  Beth- 
any?" 

"Why,  don't  you  see,  the  child  is  his  heir  or 
heiress — sole  heiress.  The  papers  didn't  say  any- 
thing about  her.  They  merely  stated  that  Hittaker 
was  without  other  relatives.  Now,  as  I  figure  it  out, 
Smalley  or  some  of  his  gang  read  that  account  with 
as  much  interest  as  I  did.  Some  of  them  would 
know  about  Smith — Bethany's  father — having  mar- 
ried Hittaker's  niece.  I  believe  that  on  the  strength 
of  the  old  man's  meanness  they  are  counting  on  the 
assurance  that  when  he  recovers  from  his  knock- 
down blow  he  will  be  likely  to  seek  Bethany  out 
and  leave  his  money  to  her  rather  than  to 
charity. 

"Well!"  said  Mrs.  Everest,  in  astonishment. 
"Well,  Barry  Mafferty,  you  are  a  clever  man." 

"Smalley  is  going  to  kidnap  the  little  young  one," 
he  went  on,  positively,  "as  sure  as  fate,  and  hold 
her  for  a  ransom  from  the  Judge  and  old  Hittaker, 
so  I've  come  to  you  to  talk  about  it." 

"Why  didn't  you  go  to  the  Judge?" 

Barry  wrinkled  his  forehead.  "Upon  my  word, 
I  don't  know,  unless  it  is  that  I  don't  believe  I  could 
bend  him  to  my  views  as  I  think  I  can  you  and  your 
husband,  for  I  want  you  to  consult  him." 

"What  do  you  think  the  Judge  would  do?"  she 
asked. 

"He's  a  very  straightforward  man,"  said  Barry, 
thoughtfully.  "He  wouldn't  shilly-shally  with  fel- 


MAFFERTY  UNFOLDS  A  PLOT  259 

lows  like  Smalley.  He'd  run  him  out  of  town. 
Now,  I'd  like  to  catch  him.  There  was  a  famous 
child-kidnapping  case  some  time  ago  in  New  York. 
I  believe  Smalley  was  in  it  from  something  I  read 
at  the  time,  and  beside  that  I've  heard  of  him  as  a 
kidnapper.  If  we  caught  him  red-handed  now,  this 
capture  might  throw  light  on  the  former  case.  Any- 
how, I'd  like  to  see  Smalley  shut  up.  It  would  be 
for  his  good." 

Mrs.  Everest's  face  had  got  very  red,  and  Barry, 
seeing  it,  smiled  in  gratification.  "I  knew  you  would 
be  with  me,"  he  went  on,  "in  trying  to  catch  him. 
Anything  about  children  appeals  to  you." 

Mrs.  Everest  tried  to  speak,  but  could  not.  Her 
voice  was  shaking  with  anger  and  emotion.  "The 
vile  wretch!"  she  ejaculated  at  last.  "I  hope  the 
Lord  will  put  some  charity  in  my  heart  for  him,  but 
now  I  am  so  angry,  so  angry !  To  steal  a  little  one 
— a  mere  baby!" 

"Well,"  said  Barry,  reassuringly,  "we  mustn't 
be  too  hard  on  him.  We've  got  to  watch.  But, 
frankly,  I  must  say  that  I  never  heard  of  Smalley 
doing  any  good  thing,  and  he's  mostly  after  big 
game.  Probably  if  he's  planning  to  take  the  child 
he  won't  do  it  himself.  He'll  arrange  everything, 
then  slip  off  and  have  confederates  come.  You  see, 
his  face  will  get  known  in  the  city,  and  he  might  be 
suspected.  But  I  fancy  the  confederates  will  go 
back  on  him  and  confess  if  we  capture  them." 

"Well,  what  do  you  propose  to  do?"  asked  Mrs. 
Everest. 

"I  propose  selfishly  to  keep  out  of  the  way.  Smal- 
ley might  possibly  recognize  me  if  he  saw  me,  and 


260  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

if  he  recognized  me  the  whole  thing  would  be  up. 
He'd  know  I  would  give  him  away." 

"We  could  not  warn  Bethany." 

"O,  no,  that  would  not  be  wise." 

"We  should  keep  the  children  from  knowledge 
of  the  evil  in  the  world  as  long  as  possible,"  con- 
tinued Mrs.  Everest.  "At  the  same  time,  I  don't 
think  it  does  any  harm  to  tell  any  child  to  be  careful 
about  talking  to  strangers  or  going  with  them." 

"I  wouldn't  say  a  word  to  her,"  said  Barry,  em- 
phatically. 

"What  would  you  do?" 

"I'd  speak  to  the  English  boy;  he's  had  some 
experience  of  the  world.  Tell  him  to  keep  a  lookout 
for  strangers  prowling  about  the  house,  but  not  to 
be  too  watchful.  And  I'd  warn  the  little  girl's 
school-teacher.  I  guess  about  the  only  time  of  day 
she's  alone  is  when  she  goes  to  and  comes  from 
school.  That's  the  time  of  all  she's  got  to  be 
watched." 

"I  know  who'll  do  that  without  attracting  atten- 
tion," said  Mrs.  Everest,  promptly. 

"Who  is  it?" 

"Cracker,  the  ex-newspaper  boy.  He  is  so  bad, 
and  has  nothing  to  do,  so  I  got  him  a  bicycle.  The 
avenue  is  his  favorite  riding  place." 

"Good,"  remarked  Barry,  in  a  low  voice.  "And 
he'll  delight  in  watching  some  one  worse  than  him- 
self. Can  you  trust  him,  though  ?" 

"Yes,  I  have  means  to  bind  him,  and  he  really 
seems  attached  to  me.  I  have  him  sleeping  in  this 
house  now.  He  was  so  dreadful  that  no  one  would 
take  him.  His  grandfather's  life  was  worried  out 


MAFFERTY  UNFOLDS  A  PLOT  261 

of  him.  He  is  on  very  good  behavior  now,  for  he 
likes  to  be  here." 

"Well,  try  him,  and  now,  to  catch  these  fellows 
red-handed,  we've  got  to  be  mighty  careful,  for 
they  are  as  shy  as  wild  ducks  and  as  clever  as  foxes." 

"Hello !"  said  a  hearty  voice,  "whom  have  you  got 
here,  Berty?  O,  meow,  meow,  as  baby  says  when 
he  sees  Barry.  How  do  you  do,  Mafferty?"  and 
Mrs.  Everest's  happy-looking  young  husband  strode 
into  the  room. 

"Bonny  is  in  the  hall,"  he  said  to  his  wife,  "look- 
ing for  the  best  place  to  show  off  his  fine  new  spring 
hat — for  spring  is  coming,  Mafferty.  Do  the  pus- 
sies tell  you  that?" 

"You  know  my  brother  Boniface,"  said  Mrs. 
Everest,  under  her  breath,  to  her  caller.  "Let  us 
tell  him,  too.  He  is  very  discreet." 

Barry  nodded,  and  presently  the  three  young  peo- 
ple and  the  middle-aged  man  were  all  seated  in  a 
corner  of  the  parlor  talking  in  low  tones  of  the  best 
plan  to  be  adopted  to  safeguard  the  rights  of  the 
little  child  and  to  punish  the  guilty  unfortunates 
who  wished  to  invade  them. 


CHAPTER  XXII 
THE  JUDGE  GETS  A  SHOCK 

PRINCESS  SUKEY  stood  severely  staring  at  the 
Judge. 

He  was  in  his  favorite  place — in  his  own  study, 
with  his  own  dear  books,  in  his  own  capacious  arm- 
chair, and  with  his  door  wide  open  for  little  Beth- 
any's noon  homecoming. 

It  was  not  yet  time  for  her  to  come,  and  to-day 
she  would  be  late,  for  she  had  warned  "Daddy 
Grandpa"  that  she  must  stay  for  a  few  minutes  after 
school  to  talk  about  a  birthday  party  that  one  of 
her  schoolmates  was  about  to  give. 

In  the  meantime  the  Judge,  sitting  comfortably 
back  in  his  chair,  was  occupied  with  his  own 
thoughts,  and  uncommonly  lively  thoughts  they 
were,  judging  by  his  face. 

The  pigeon  stared  still  more  severely.  Being  of 
a  serious  disposition,  she  never  approved  of  laugh- 
ter— and  the  Judge  was  laughing  now. 

He  was  thinking  of  Airy.  Her  pranks  amused 
him  immensely.  The  day  before  she  had  been  in- 
vited to  dine  with  him.  The  Judge  could  see  her 
coming  into  the  room,  her  mouth  primly  set,  her 
sharp  eyes  going  to  and  fro.  She  did  nothing  spon- 
taneously. With  slavish  imitation  she  studied  the 
other  children.  She  ate  as  Bethany  did,  she  made 


THE  JUDGE  GETS  A  SHOCK  263 

use  of  Dallas's  and  Titus's  phrases,  and  if  she  had 
not  one  of  theirs  at  hand  she  kept  silence. 

"Upon  my  word,  Sukey,"  said  the  Judge,  mis- 
chievously, to  the  pigeon,  "I  believe  Airy  is  going 
to  make  a  lady  of  herself,  after  all.  They  say  that  a 
faithful  imitation  is  a  good  original.  I  foresee, 
though,  many  lessons  ahead  for  us.  The  little  witch 
has  made  up  her  mind  to  spend  a  good  part  of  her 
time  in  studying  us.  Well,  we  don't  care — we  don't 
care,"  and  he  laughed  again. 

"It  seems  to  me,"  he  said  at  last,  taking  off  his 
glasses  and  wiping  them  with  his  handkerchief, 
"that  I  laugh  far  more  over  children  than  I  used  to. 
I  believe  that  as  a  young  man  I  took  my  family  too 
seriously.  Certain  it  is  that  I  get  more  real  amuse- 
ment and  enjoyment  out  of  the  children  of  my  adop- 
tion than  I  did  out  of  my  own  dear  little  ones.  How 
I  wish  I  had  them  round  me  now !"  and  he  sighed. 

The  pigeon  wrathfully  shook  herself.  She  wanted 
no  more  children  about.  There  were  too  many  now 
for  her  taste,  and  elevating  her  head  she  said, 
sharply,  a  great  many  times,  "Rookety  cahoo!  rook- 
ety  cahoo!" 

The  Judge  looked  at  her.  Her  greenish-yellow 
eyes  were  fixed  on  him  with  a  steady  glare.  They 
seemed  to  mesmerize  him,  and  in  two  minutes  the 
Judge's  dear  old  white  head  was  nodding. 

He  was  having  forty  winks  before  luncheon,  but 
during  the  forty  winks  he  had  time  to  dream.  He 
was  facing  a  crowded  courtroom,  there  was  trouble 
somewhere;  he  did  not  seem  to  know  just  what  it 
was.  A  great  noise  and  confusion  uprose.  He  tried 
to  speak,  but  could  not,  and  in  his  distress  he  awoke. 


264  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

When  he  went  to  sleep  the  room  had  been  quiet, 
the  house  was  quiet,  the  street  was  quiet.  Now  the 
noise  in  his  dream  seemed  to  have  followed  him  into 
real  life — or  did  he  fancy  it?  and  he  put  up  a  hand 
as  if  to  stop  the  singing  in  his  ears.  He  hoped  he 
was  not  getting  deaf. 

There  certainly  was  a  noise,  a  great  noise  abroad, 
and  it  was  not  in  his  ears.  He  heard  carriages  in 
the  street  and  banging  of  doors,  loud  voices  in  the 
hall  below,  and  now  there  were  persons  rushing 
upstairs. 

He  was  still  slightly  confused.  He  had  a  vision 
of  the  pigeon  listening,  her  hooded  head  on  one 
side,  her  body  vibrating  with  anger,  then  a  dozen 
or  more  persons  hurried  into  the  room  and  invaded 
his  armchair. 

The  Judge  sat  helplessly  back  and  looked  at  them. 
What  was  the  matter  ? 

Foremost  among  the  newcomers  was  young  Mrs. 
Everest,  her  face  like  a  poppy,  the  plumes  of  her  big 
hat  nodding  against  his  white  head  as  she  bent  over 
him. 

She  was  almost  screaming,  she  was  so  excited. 
"You  dear  old  man,  I've  always  wanted  to  kiss  you, 
and  I'm  going  to  do  so  now." 

The  Judge  smiled  feebly.  Did  she,  too,  want  to 
be  adopted?  He  made  no  resistance,  but  he  cer- 
tainly made  no  response  as  her  affectionate  arms 
were  thrown  round  him  and  a  kiss  was  sweetly 
placed  on  his  forehead. 

It  was  a  congratulatory  embrace,  he  felt  that; 
but  what  had  he  done,  what  had  happened  ? 

"Allow  me  to  shake  hands  and  felicitate  you," 


THE  JUDGE  GETS  A  SHOCK  265 

said  a  second  joyful  voice,  and  Berty's  husband 
seized  and  wrung  his  hana. 

The  Judge  struggled  out  of  his  chair.  There 
was  Berty's  brother  Boniface,  there  were  several 
young  Everests,  there  were  Charlie  Brown,  Titus, 
Dallas,  and  some  other  boys  that  he  did  not  know, 
and  what  were  those  two  young  fellows  doing  with 
notebooks  ?  Reporters,  of  course.  Oblivious  of  the 
chatter  and  confusion  about  them  they  were  rapidly 
taking  notes,  their  eyes  going  all  round  the  room, 
even  to  the  top  of  the  bookcase,  where  stood  an  in- 
dignant, frightened  pigeon  looking  down  at  this 
invasion  of  her  home. 

The  Judge  soon  forgot  the  reporters.  He  was 
just  about  to  ask  what  he  had  done  that  he  should 
be  written  up  for  the  press  when  his  dismayed  eyes 
fell  on  a  little  creature  somewhat  in  the  back- 
ground. 

Who  was  that?  If  he  were  in  his  sane  mind  he 
would  say  that  it  was  Bethany  dressed  as  a  boy. 
Her  hair  was  cut  short,  she  had  on  a  boy's  suit  of 
clothes,  and,  astonishing  to  tell,  she,  quite  oblivious 
of  the  laughing  and  talking  about  her,  was  amusing 
herself  by  playing  horse  on  a  chair  that  she  had 
overturned. 

She  was  astride  it.  "Gee  up,  horsie,"  the  Judge 
heard  her  say,  and  she  whipped  and  beat  the  chair 
with  her  plump  little  palm. 

The  Judge  gazed  helplessly  at  Mrs.  Everest  and 
ejaculated,  "Is  she  crazy?" 

"Poor  little  dear,"  said  the  young  woman,  indig- 
nantly, "those  wretches  played  on  her  lively  imag- 
ination and  tried  to  transform  her  into  a  boy." 


266  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"What  wretches?"  asked  the  Judge,  feebly,  but 
Mrs.  Everest  had  too  little  command  of  herself  to 
answer  him.  "There's  the  Mayor,"  she  cried,  "I 
hear  his  voice,"  and  she  ran  out  in  the  hall. 

"More  carriages!"  one  young  Everest  squealed, 
and  they,  too,  dashed  out. 

"Tom  Everest,"  said  the  Judge,  solemnly,  to 
Berry's  husband,  "what  is  this  all  about?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Tom,  absently,  and  the  Judge 
knew  that  he  had  not  heard  his  question,  for  he 
continued  a  lively  conversation  that  he  was  having 
with  Boniface. 

"I  tell  you,  Bonny,  that  you  shan't  take  all  the 
credit  from  our  police  force.  It's  all  very  well  for 
those  New  York  men  to  crow.  They  weren't  in  it." 

"They  were,  Tom,"  replied  Bonny,  indignantly. 

The  Judge  stared.  Boniface  Gravely  was  a  young 
elegant  who  prided  himself  on  his  good  manners. 
What  dispute  had  he  come  here  in  his  study  to 
settle?  He  never  had  seen  him  out  of  temper  be- 
fore. Now  he  was  red  and  flushed,  and  looked  as  if 
he  could  strike  his  brother-in-law. 

The  Judge  caught  other  phrases  from  other  ex- 
cited ones.  "The  police — cab — driving  fast — run- 
ning away — railway  station — caught  them  in  time." 
Something  startling  had  evidently  happened. 

He  put  out  one  of  his  long  arms  and  drew  Titus 
toward  him.  "Grandson,  what  is  all  this  about?" 

"B-b-lest  if  I  know,"  said  Titus,  bluntly.  "I 
never  saw  such  a  mix-up  in  my  life.  The  people 
are  just  pouring  into  the  house,  and  they're  all  too 
excited  to  explain.  I  tried  to  get  hold  of  Dallas, 
but  he's  sparring  over  there  in  a  corner  with  the 


THE  JUDGE  GETS  A  SHOCK  267 

dirtiest  little  ragamuffin  I  ever  saw.  He's  called 
Cracker,  and  I  guess  Dallas  saw  him  stealing  some- 
thing." 

"You  might  keep  your  eyes  open,  Titus,"  groaned 
the  Judge.  "I  never  had  such  an  irruption  into  my 
house  as  this  before." 

"W-w-whatever  it  is,  Bethany's  in  it,"  said  Titus. 
"I  hear  them  talking  about  her." 

"Can't  you  get  hold  of  her,  Titus,  and  take  those 
clothes  off?" 

Titus  looked  sharply  at  him.  His  grandfather's 
voice  was  almost  childish.  These  people  were  driv- 
ing him  distracted. 

"Come  out  in  the  hall,  grandfather,"  he  said, 
taking  him  by  the  arm,  "the  air  is  cooler." 

"Law  me,"  he  groaned,  when  they  reached  the 
hall  window,  "look  at  the  carriages  dashing  down 
the  avenue.  The  Brown-Gardners'  and  the  Darley- 
Jameses',  and  the  Rector's — " 

"Titus,"  called  a  sudden  voice,  "there's  a  depu- 
tation from  your  school  coming.  They've  just  tele- 
phoned. Can  you  go  down  and  receive  them?" 

"No,  I  can't,"  growled  Titus,  "I'm  going  to  stay 
with  grandfather.  Go  yourself." 

Dallas  raised  himself  on  tiptoe  and  stared  across 
some  heads  at  them. 

"Anything  I  can  do  for  the  Judge?"  he  asked, 
calling  a  halt  in  his  excitement. 

"No,"  responded  Titus,  "go  on.  I'll  stay  with 
him." 

"A  telephone  message  for  Mr.  Tom  Everest," 
called  a  piercing  voice.  "His  father  wants  him  on 
business  at  the  iron  works." 


268  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

The  Judge  straightened  his  tall  form  and  looked 
in  through  the  open  door  of  his  study.  A  strange 
young  man  sat  at  his  telephone  desk.  He  was  re- 
ceiving and  giving  messages,  as  if  the  house 
belonged  to  him. 

"The  Mayor  to  see  the  Judge,  the  Mayor,  the 
Mayor,"  reiterated  a  number  of  voices,  and  a  pas- 
sage was  made  between  the  people,  who  by  this 
time  crowded  the  staircase  and  the  upper  hall. 

Titus  guided  his  grandfather  to  the  big  hall  win- 
dow and  threw  it  wide  open. 

Mr.  Jimson,  the  Mayor,  was  a  medium-sized, 
bluff,  hearty  man,  for  whom  the  Judge  had  great 
respect.  He  was  a  man  who  made  no  pretensions 
to  elegance,  but  the  Judge  admired  him  for  his 
honesty.  This  was  his  second  term  as  mayor.  Dur- 
ing the  first  one  he  had  threatened  to  resign  on 
account  of  corruption  in  civic  affairs.  He  had  been 
urged  to  remain  in  office  by  all  the  best  citizens  of 
the  town,  and  owing  to  their  efforts  many  reforms 
had  been  effected. 

Just  now  he  was  beaming  on  the  Judge. 

"Congratulations!"  he  said,  extending  a  hand 
and  heartily  shaking  the  Judge's.  "I'm  glad  you 
caught  those  fellows." 

"Thank  you,"  said  the  Judge,  simply.  He  pos- 
sessed a  certain  kind  of  pride  that  would  not  allow 
him  to  seek  information  from  the  chief  official  of 
the  city,  even  though  he  seemed  the  only  one  capa- 
ble of  giving  it. 

"Just  look  at  the  people  swarming  down  the  ave- 
nue," continued  the  Mayor.  "I  wish  the  people  of 
Riverport  held  me  in  such  estimation.  This  your 


THE  JUDGE  GETS  A  SHOCK  269 

grandson?  How  do  you  do,  young  sir?  I'm  pleased 
to  meet  you,"  and  he  shook  hands  with  Titus. 

Titus  was  as  proud  as  his  grandfather,  so  he,  too, 
did  not  seek  enlightenment. 

Suddenly  Mrs.  Everest  stood  at  the  Judge's  side. 
He  did  not  know  how  she  got  there. 

"Worked  my  shoulders  through  the  press,"  she 
said,  gayly;  "there's  an  art  in  it.  You  turn  one 
blade,  then  the  other,  and  they  cut  the  crowd.  Dear 
Judge,  the  house  is  packed — not  another  one  can 
get  in.  They're  lining  up  on  the  sidewalk  and  the 
middle  of  the  street.  Just  see.  You  can't  shake 
hands  with  all.  You'll  have  to  make  a  speech." 

As  if  her  thought  had  communicated  itself  to  the 
crowd,  or,  rather,  perhaps,  that  the  people  on  the 
street  had  caught  sight  of  the  Judge's  white  head, 
there  arose  a  sudden  cry,  "Speech!  Speech!" 

The  Judge  looked  helplessly  about  him. 

The  jam  on  the  staircase,  in  the  hall,  and  in  the 
study  took  up  the  cry,  "Speech !  Speech !" 

The  Judge,  brought  to  bay,  turned  rebukingly  to 
Mrs.  Everest.  "Speech !  Speech !  but  what  shall  I 
speechify  about?" 

"Why,  about  this  trouble — about  your  loss  and — " 

"Speak  louder,  I  beg,"  'exclaimed  the  Judge,  put- 
ting his  hand  behind  his  ear  and  bending  down  to 
catch  her  words.  "There  is  such  a  roaring  that  I 
can't  hear." 

She  put  up  her  lips,  and  in  a  clear,  flutelike  voice 
called  out  to  him,  "Exhort  them  to  love  their  homes 
and  families,  to  keep  them  pure,  to  protect  their 
children.  I  think  you'll  do  best  on  general  lines. 
Don't  make  personal  references." 


270  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

The  Judge  set  his  face.  "I  see,"  he  said,  firmly, 
"that  is  some  kind  of  a  complimentary  demonstra- 
tion, but  I  am  not  the  kind  of  man  to  talk  about  a 
thing  I  do  not  understand.  Tell  me  in  a  few  words 
what  all  this  means." 

Berty  stared  at  him  in  amazement.  "Has  no  one 
told  you?"  she  vociferated. 

He  shook  his  head.    "No  one." 

"Kidnapers  tried  to  steal  Bethany,"  she  cried. 
"We  rescued  her.  The  people  are  glad." 

The  Judge  understood.  "Thank  you,"  he  said, 
gravely.  Then  he  faced  the  crowd  in  the  street. 

It  was  not  a  cold  day,  and  the  really  soft  spring 
wind  blew  aside  his  white  hair  as  he  looked  from 
the  window  at  his  assembled  and  assembling  citi- 
zens, for  others  were  yet  arriving. 

For  just  one  instant  he  faltered.  He  was  not  a 
public  speaker,  and  he  had  never  addressed  a  crowd 
like  this.  He  might  have  failed,  or  he  might  have 
made  a  lame  and  halting  speech,  if  it  had  not  been 
for  the  presence  of  a  hand  somewhat  smaller  than 
his  own. 

Titus  was  standing  by  him,  his  own  dear  grand- 
son was  watching  him  anxiously.  The  Judge 
thought  of  him  and  of  the  other  children  of  his 
family.  He  would  speak  so  that  they  might  be 
proud  of  him,  and  his  voice  rang  out  on  the  clear 
noonday  air :  "My  dear  fellow  citizens,  I  thank  you 
for  this  grand  sympathetic  gathering.  In  trouble 
or  in  joy,  the  inhabitants  of  a  city  should  stand 
together.  Stand  by  each  other,  and  stand  by  your 
families.  We  read  in  Holy  Writ  that  God  setteth 
the  solitary  in  families ;  also  that  ye  shall  not  afflict 


THE  JUDGE  GETS  A  SHOCK  271 

any  widow  or  fatherless  child.  Now,  a  fatherless 
child  has  been  afflicted.  Wicked  men  attempted  to 
lay  hands  upon  her,  but  they  were  defeated." 

A  burst  of  applause  interrupted  the  Judge,  and 
with  his  blood  tingling  in  his  veins  he  went  on  with 
the  delivery  of  the  best  twenty-minute  impromptu 
speech  that  had  ever  been  given  in  Riverport,  so  the 
newspapers  said  next  day. 

The  speech  was  not  concluded  with  as  much  dig- 
nity as  it  had  been  begun.  It  certainly  had  a  more 
affecting  conclusion  than  beginning.  The  Judge 
was  just  about  to  close.  He  was  about  to  thank  his 
friends  and  acquaintances  and  well  wishers  for  the 
honor  they  had  done  him,  when  out  of  the  pro- 
found silence  about  him  there  arose  a  little  cry — a 
child's  cry. 

Bethany,  happy  at  first  in  her  play  at  riding  a 
horse,  had  soon  become  alarmed  by  the  continued 
influx  of  strangers.  Some  kind-hearted  persons  had 
taken  it  upon  themselves  to  comfort  her,  and  for  a 
time  had  succeeded. 

The  child,  however,  wanted  Daddy  Grandpa,  and 
refused  to  be  consoled  for  his  absence.  She  did 
not  care  if  he  were  making  a  speech,  and  her  wail- 
ing cry  grew  louder  and  louder,  until  at  last  some 
one  had  the  happy  thought  of  passing  her  out  to  the 
Judge.  She  was  lifted  along  from  one  set  of  strong 
arms  to  another,  until  at  last  her  little  feet  were  on 
the  window  sill  beside  the  Judge,  and  her  arms  were 
about  his  neck. 

The  close-cropped  head  was  laid  across  his  mouth. 
He  could  not  utter  a  word.  The  crowd  understood 
the  little  affectionate,  frightened,  childish  embrace, 


272  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

and  a  tremendous  cheering  and  clapping  broke 
out. 

The  Judge  fell  back  from  the  window,  and  the 
Mayor  stepped  forward. 

"Three  cheers  for  the  Judge,"  he  said,  waving 
his  hat  in  the  air,  "and  then  three  cheers  for  the 
children  of  Riverport." 

The  cheers  were  given  with  a  will,  and  then  the 
crowd  began  to  disperse. 

Titus  slipped  up  to  Mrs.  Everest.  "Look  here, 
Mrs.  Berty,  send  all  these  folks  out  of  the  house.  I 
can't,  as  I'm  under  my  own  roof.  It's  too  much 
for  grandfather." 

"Very  well,"  she  said,  nodding  her  black  head. 
"I'll  just  let  a  few  stay." 

"Don't  you  let  anyone  stay,"  the  boy  said,  obsti- 
nately, "but  yourself.  Grandfather  will  want  you 
to  explain  this  affair  to  him." 

"Not  my  brother  and  the  Mayor  ?"  she  said,  wist- 
fully. 

"No  brothers  and  no  mayors,"  said  the  boy. 
"Excuse  me  for  seeming  rude,  but  grandfather 
looks  pale.  He  wasn't  well  yesterday." 

Mrs.  Everest  ran  up  to  the  Mayor  and  whispered 
to  him. 

He  was  a  man  of  businesslike  methods,  and  in  ten 
minutes  there  wasn't  a  person  in  the  house  outside 
the  family,  except  Mrs.  Tom  Everest,  though  a  few 
groups  still  loitered  on  the  sidewalk. 

She  went  into  the  study  with  the  Judge  and  Beth- 
any, and  Titus  ran  downstairs  to  tell  Higby  to  let 
no  one  come  upstairs  without  permission. 

Titus  could  not  find  Higby  at  first.    After  a  time 


THE  JUDGE  GETS  A  SHOCK  273 

he  discovered  him  behind  the  door  in  the  pantry, 
crying  in  a  low  and  dispirited  way. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?"  he  asked. 

Higby  raised  a  tearful  face. 

"Mi-mi-missis  Blodgett  slapped  me." 

"And  what  did  she  slap  you  for?  I'll  bet  you 
deserved  it." 

"I-I-I'm  a  bachelor,"  whimpered  Higby,  "a-a-an' 
she's  a  widder." 

"Well,  suppose  you  are,  and  suppose  she  is,"  said 
the  boy,  impatiently,  "what  of  it?  She  wouldn't 
slap  you  for  that  ?" 

"When  I-I-I  saw  the  crowd  I  thought  she  m-m- 
might  be  scared,  an'  I  put  m-m-my  arm  round  her." 

"Scared!  You  goose,  you'd  scare  quicker  than 
she  would." 

"An'  she  sl-sl-slapped  me,"  continued  Higby, 
dolefully,  "an'  she  said,  'You  sas-sas-sassy  ole  dog. 
An'  I-I-I  aint  a  dog." 

"More's  the  pity,"  said  Titus,  unfeelingly.  "You'd 
have  more  sense  if  you  were.  Now,  listen  to  me. 
Grandfather  wants  to  keep  quiet.  If  anyone  comes 
to  see  him  put  him  or  her  in  the  parlor  and  come 
for  me.  If  you  let  anyone  upstairs  without  orders 
from  us  I'll  give  you  a  slap  compared  with  which 
Mrs.  Blodgett's  would  be  a  caress.  Do  you  under- 
stand?" and  he  took  the  old  man  by  the  shoulder 
and  gently  shook  him. 

Higby  smiled  through  his  tears.  "B-b-bless  you, 
Master  Titus.  You  want  to  m-m-make  ole  Higby 
laugh." 

"Do  you  understand  ?"  asked  the  boy. 

The  old  man  nodded. 


274  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"Put  your  handkerchief  in  your  pocket,"  com- 
manded Titus. 

Higby  did  so. 

"Stand  up,  walk  out  into  the  hall,  strut  a  little,  if 
you  can." 

Higby,  with  a  wan  smile,  tried  to  strut,  and  to 
such  good  effect  that  Titus,  taken  with  a  sudden  fit  of 
laughter  and  choking,  was  obliged  to  retire  behind 
the  pantry  door.  Presently  he  came  out. 

"Higby,  repeat  after  me:  'A  bachelor's  life  is  a 
lively  life.' ' 

"A-a-a  ba-ba-bachelor's  life  is  a  1-1-lovely  life." 

"Lively,  you  goose." 

"L-1-lively  life." 

"None  of  your  widows  for  me." 

"None  of  your  w-w-widders  for  me." 

"Now,  don't  you  feel  better?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Higby.  "I'll  put  me  a-a-arm 
round  the  stair  post  afore  I-I-T11  put  it  round  that 
widder  again,"  and  he  marched  valiantly  up  to  the 
aforesaid  post  and  struck  it  with  such  vehemence 
and  comicality  that  Titus  put  down  his  head  and  ran 
precipitately  upstairs. 

Higby's  admiration  for  Mrs.  Blodgett  was  a 
standing  joke  in  the  family. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 
MRS.  EVEREST  BEGINS  TO  EXPLAIN 

TITUS  found  his  grandfather  sitting  in  his  arm- 
chair, with  Bethany  on  her  little  stool  at  his  feet. 
Her  head  was  pressed  against  him.  Her  eyes  were 
red  and  troubled,  and  occasionally  she  caught  her 
breath  in  a  faint  sob. 

Mrs.  Everest  sat  opposite  them,  and  on  seeing 
Titus  she  said,  eagerly,  "Come,  boy,  we  are  just 
waiting  for  you."  Then  she  turned  to  the  Judge. 
"Do  I  understand  you  to  say  that  you  have  not  the 
slightest  inkling  of  all  that  occurred  to-day?" 

"It  would  perhaps  not  be  right  to  say  that  I  have 
not  the  slightest  inkling,"  returned  the  Judge.  "I 
see  that  something  important  has  happened — some 
attempt  on  Bethany's  life  or  liberty,  I  imagine.  I 
am  in  possession  of  not  one  detail." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  no  one  told  you  about 
it?"  said  Mrs.  Everest,  incredulously.  "Why  did 
not  some  of  those  people  explain  to  you?  I  de- 
pended on  them.  I  was  busy  looking  after  the 
people  myself,  and  I  wanted  to  say  a  few  words  to 
the  reporters.  Some  things  we  don't  want  to  get 
in  the  press.  Why,  where  was  Dallas?  He  knew 
all  about  it." 

"Here,"  exclaimed  a  sudden  voice,  and  the  Eng- 
lish boy  pushed  open  the  door  and  came  in.  He  was 
red  and  flushed,  and  looked  tired. 


276  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"If  I  haven't  had  a  dance  after  that  firecracker !" 
he  exclaimed.  "What  a  beast  of  a  boy!  He  was 
stealing  right  and  left  here,  or  trying  to.  I  had  to 
drag  him  with  me  wherever  I  went.  First  of  all, 
he  brought  his  wheel  into  the  house  by  the  back  way 
and  broke  a  stepladder  and  muddied  a  lot  of  clean 
clothes  down  in  the  lower  hall.  Thank  fortune,  he's 
gone  now.  I've  just  escorted  him  to  the  corner  of 
the  first  street." 

Mrs.  Everest  looked  anxious.  "I  must  hurry 
home  and  talk  to  him.  But  first  to  enlighten  you, 
dear  Judge.  I  shall  begin  at  the  first.  Two  weeks 
ago  Barry  Mafferty  came  to  me  in  great  anxiety. 
Now,  this  mustn't  be  talked  about.  You  boys  will 
be  careful  not  to  say  anything  about  him.  Dear 
little  Bethany  is  going  to  sleep,"  and  she  threw  a 
compassionate  glance  at  the  tired  face  against  the 
Judge's  knee. 

"You  don't  wish  Mafferty's  name  mentioned  in 
connection  with  the  affair,"  said  the  Judge, 
shrewdly. 

"Not  a  murmur  of  it.  You  see,  he  used  to  be  a 
miserable  sort  of  a  man,  and  now  he  is  really  re- 
forming. Well,  he  said  a  man  he  knew  to  be  a 
criminal  was  prowling  about  your  house.  He  made 
up  his  mind — indeed,  he  had  cause  to  do  so — that 
the  fellow  had  designs  upon  some  one  in  your  fam- 
ily. He  decided  that  it  was  Bethany,  for  he  found 
out  that  old  Mr.  Hittaker — " 

She  paused  an  instant  for  breath,  as  she  was 
speaking  very  rapidly,  and  the  Judge,  with  a  faint 
gleam  of  amusement  passing  over  his  face,  inquired, 
"Of  Hittaker's  soap?" 


MRS.  EVEREST  BEGINS  TO  EXPLAIN      277 

"The  same.  Poor  old  man,  he  had  lost  his  daugh- 
ter, her  husband,  and  her  children.  He  hadn't  a 
relative  in  the  world  left  but  Bethany.  Mafferty 
said  that  probably  some  nest  of  criminals  had  de- 
cided to  steal  Bethany,  on  the  supposition  that  she 
would  be  made  old  Mr.  Hittaker's  heiress,  or,  even 
if  she  weren't,  that  you  would  be  willing  to  pay  a 
considerable  sum  to  get  her  back." 

The  Judge  shook  his  head.  "I  don't  know  how  it 
is,  but  an  impression  has  got  out  that  I  am  worth 
a  great  deal  more  money  than  I  really  possess.  I 
suppose  it  is  because  I  stopped  working  when  I 
thought  I  had  enough,  and  because  I  spend  what  I 
have,  instead  of  hoarding  it." 

"You  could  not  be  mean,"  said  Mrs.  Everest. 
"You  are  very  generous  and  very  sensible.  Well, 
to  continue.  Barry  was  greatly  excited,  and  didn't 
want  to  trouble  you  in  the  affair,  so  he  enlisted  my 
aid  and  my  husband's.  Then,  too,  he  wanted  to 
catch  the  would-be  kidnapers,  and  he  was  afraid 
you  would  not  wait  for  them  as  we  have  done.  It 
was  sorry  work,  in  a  way,  but  both  my  husband  and 
Barry  said  that  anyone  bad  enough  to  carry  off  a 
child  should  be  caught  and  shut  up." 

"So  you  have  been  playing  detective?"  said  the 
Judge,  and  his  eyes  sparkled  with  interest  and  a 
slight  inclination  to  tease. 

"Yes,  dear  Judge,  amateur  detectives.  We  did 
nothing  to  entice  to  crime.  We  merely  waited.  I 
knew,  Barry  knew,  my  husband  knew,  Roblee,  your 
coachman,  knew,  Mrs.  Hume  knew.  Cracker,  the 
naughty  Cracker,  was  merely  told  to  watch  certain 
people,  and  he  has  been  scorching  up  and  down  this 


278  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

avenue  like  a  thing  possessed.  We  did  not  call  in 
the  aid  of  the  local  police  or  the  New  York  police 
till  the  last  day  or  two.  Two  young  newspaper  men 
here  have  helped  us  wonderfully.  One  of  them 
guarded  Jennie." 

"Jennie !"  exclaimed  the  Judge. 

"O,  yes ;  I  forgot  to  say  that  she  had  to  be  told, 
too.  Those  scamps  found  out  that  she  slept  in  the 
room  with  Bethany  and  had  charge  of  her,  so  they 
tried  to  become  friendly  with  her  in  order  to  get 
information  from  her.  One  of  them  came  here  one 
day  in  the  guise  of  a  workman." 

"Who  came?" 

"One  of  this  gang  of  miscreants.  He  rang  the 
bell,  walked  in,  said  he  was  a  workman  come  to  do 
the  window  shades  in  the  attic.  Jennie  went  up 
with  him,  and  when  he  got  in  the  attic  she  found 
there  weren't  any  shades  to  mend;  they  were  all 
in  order.  He  laughed  and  said  he  had  come  to  the 
wrong  house ;  then  he  rather  made  friends  with  her 
and  said  he  was  a  stranger  in  the  city.  He  wished 
she  would  show  him  about  a  little.  Would  she  take 
a  walk  with  him  the  next  afternoon  ?" 

"She  did  not  go,  of  course?"  said  the  Judge. 

"She  did,"  said  Mrs.  Everest,  reluctantly;  "she 
mistook  her  instructions.  We  would  not  have  had 
her  go  with  him  for  the  world ;  but  you  may  be  sure 
she  did  not  go  alone." 

"Why  did  you  not  stop  her,  if  you  did  not  wish 
her  to  go?"  inquired  the  Judge,  slightly  wrinkling 
his  forehead. 

"I  did  not  know  about  it,  dear  Judge.  You  see, 
it  was  this  way :  One  of  those  young  reporters  had 


MRS.  EVEREST  BEGINS  TO  EXPLAIN      279 

engaged  a  room  in  that  quiet  street  around  the  cor- 
ner from  here,  where  Bethany  goes  to  school.  What 
is  the  name  of  it?" 

Titus  supplied  the  name.  "It  is  Garden  Street, 
Mrs.  Everest." 

"O,  yes — Garden  Street.  Well,  Mr.  Busby  took 
a  room  opposite  Mrs.  Hume's.  Jennie  consulted 
him,  and  he  told  her  to  go  with  the  man.  He  would 
be  near  her.  So  Jennie  went,  and  Cracker,  scooting 
after  her,  reported  her  movements  to  Harry  Busby. 
The  pretended  workman,  who  called  himself  Simp- 
son, acted  like  a  gentleman.  He  talked  nicely  to 
Jennie,  took  her  for  a  walk  down  Broadway,  and 
invited  her  to  go  into  Duffy's  for  ice  cream." 

The  Judge  did  not  like  this,  and  Mrs.  Everest 
hastened  on :  "She  did  it  for  Bethany,  dear  Judge. 
She  felt  terribly  embarrassed.  You  know  what  a 
nice,  quiet  girl  Jennie  is — not  one  to  take  up  with 
strangers  at  all.  However,  when  it  came  to  the  ice 
cream  she  thought  she  had  gone  far  enough,  and 
Harry  Busby  released  her.  She  put  up  her  hand 
and  took  off  her  veil.  That  was  a  sign  that  she  was 
tired  of  the  affair.  Busby  was  watching  her  through 
the  doorway.  He  came  in,  pretended  to  be  an  old 
friend,  and  that  he  was  jealous  to  find  her  with  a 
stranger,  and  in  a  quiet  way  made  her  come  with 
him." 

"And  what  came  out  of  that  escapade?"  asked 
the  Judge,  with  emphasis. 

"Nothing,  except  that  the  stranger  found  that  he 
could  not  gain  any  control  over  Jennie." 

"Did  he  ask  her  any  questions  about  Beth- 
any?" 


280  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"Not  one ;  he  was  evidently  planning  that  for  an- 
other meeting-.  But  he  never  saw  Jennie  again. 
Foiled  in  that,  the  kidnapers  turned  their  whole 
attention  on  gaining  control  of  the  child  herself.  By 
the  way,  we  found  out  that  there  were  just  two  at 
first — two  young  men.  One,  whose  real  name  was 
Smalley,  called  himself  Givins;  the  other,  his  con- 
federate, who  tried  to  deceive  Jennie,  called  himself 
Simpson,  as  I  said  before.  Barry  didn't  know  his 
real  name." 

"Do  you  suppose  Smalley  was  the  right  name  of 
the  first  one  ?"  asked  the  Judge,  searchingly. 

"O,  no,  but  that  is  the  name  he  mostly  goes  by, 
Barry  says.  Anyway,  we  had  these  two  fellows  well 
watched,  and  cleverly  watched,  for  they  did  not 
suspect  us.  You  see,  there  were  so  many  of  us,  and 
they  were  only  two.  Well,  two  days  ago  they  both 
disappeared,  and  at  this  point  we  took  our  city 
detectives  and  the  New  York  detectives  into  our 
confidence.  One  of  our  own  men  went  to  New  York 
with  Givins  and  Simpson,  reported  to  an  agency 
there,  and  the  two  men  have  been  watched.  We 
hope  to  hear  of  their  arrest  any  time  now." 

"Well,  this  is  a  plot,"  said  the  Judge,  drawing  a 
long  breath. 

Mrs.  Everest  nodded  her  pretty  head  at  him. 
"You  don't  quite  approve,  Judge.  I  see  it  in  your 
eye.  O,  if  you  knew  what  a  pleasure  it  has  been 
to  watch  over  your  interests!" 

The  Judge  looked  gratified.  "My  dear  child,  I 
thank  you,"  he  said,  heartily ;  "but  look  there,"  and 
he  turned  abruptly  to  Dallas  and  Titus. 

The  two  boys'  faces  were  red;  their  heads  and 


MRS.  EVEREST  BEGINS  TO  EXPLAIN      281 

bodies,  too,  for  that  matter,  were  bending  forward. 
They  were  absolutely  hanging  on  every  word  she 
uttered. 

"Just  see  them,"  said  the  Judge,  ironically,  "their 
young  eyes  starting  out  of  their  heads.  You  know 
what  my  career  has  been.  I  may  say  that  mine  has 
been  a  profession  that  I  have  kept  separate  from  my 
home  interests.  I  early  made  up  my  mind  that,  as 
far  as  possible,  it  is  best  to  keep  the  evil  and  the 
good  apart.  Not  one  word  has  my  family  ever 
heard  me  utter  with  regard  to  the  process  of  liti- 
gating or  carrying  on  suits  in  courts  of  law  or  equity 
or  on  the  darker  world  of  criminal  actions  and  cases. 
I  know  that  the  human  mind,  and  especially  the 
youthful  mind,  is  curious,  morbidly  curious,  with 
respect  to  the  proceedings  by  which  a  person  accused 
of  crime  is  brought  to  trial  and  judgment.  I  don't 
think  that  that  curiosity  ought  to  be  gratified." 

"Nor  I,"  replied  Mrs.  Everest,  "but  surely  this 
is  an  exceptional  case." 

"Possibly,"  returned  the  Judge,  "possibly.  Please 
continue  your  story." 

She  smiled  sweetly  at  him,  and  went  on :  "After 
Simpson  and  Smalley,  alias  Givins,  left  here,  two 
strange  women  arrived.  But  we  didn't  know  it. 
Of  all  the  travelers  arriving  here  daily,  we  could 
not  be  supposed  to  know  at  first  sight  which  ones 
were  criminals.  However,  we  did  not  relax  our 
vigilance  with  regard  to  Bethany.  No  stranger 
could  approach  her,  or  any  member  of  your  family, 
without  our  knowledge.  Sure  enough,  this  morning 
the  kidnaping  attempt  was  to  be  made." 

"Pardon  me,"  interrupted  the  Judge,  "but  there 


282  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

is  a  great  noise  in  the  hall  below.  It  goes  through 
my  head.  Titus,  will  you  see  about  it?" 

The  Judge  was  the  only  one  that  had  heard  the 
noise.  The  others  had  been  so  absorbed  in  Mrs. 
Everest's  recital,  and  she  herself  was  still  so  much 
excited,  that  she  was  only  aware  of  what  was  going 
on  immediately  about  her. 

Titus  sprang  up  and,  running  out  into  the  hall, 
looked  over  the  stair  railing. 

Poor  old  Higby,  in  trouble  once  more,  was  execut- 
ing a  kind  of  war  dance  round  a  young  man  that 
Titus  speedily  recognized  as  Mrs.  Everest's  husband. 

Titus  clapped  a  hand  over  his  mouth  to  prevent 
an  explosion  of  laughter,  and  for  a  few  instants 
wickedly  did  not  interfere. 

"Let  me  by,  you  old  scamp,"  Tom  Everest  was 
saying,  half  in  amusement,  half  in  irritability. 
"Don't  you  know  me?  Why,  I've  been  coming  to 
this  house  ever  since  I  was  knee-high  to  a  grass- 
hopper." 

"C-c-can't  help  it,"  replied  Higby,  flourishing  a 
broom  that  he  held  in  his  hand.  "You  aint  a-a- 
a-goin'  up." 

"You  old  dog — get  out  of  my  way — isn't  my  wife 
up  there?" 

"S-s-stand  back,"  vociferated  Higby,  "or  I  shall 
h-h-hit  you  with  this  broom." 

"Why,  Higby,  you're  crazy,"  said  Tom,  good- 
naturedly.  "I  tell  you  my  wife  is  up  there.  Would 
you  separate  man  and  wife?  I'm  going  up,  any- 
way. Now,  once  more,  and  for  the  last  time,  will 
you  announce  me  ?" 

Higby  shook  his  head.     Tom  gave  a  grunt  of 


MRS.  EVEREST  BEGINS  TO  EXPLAIN      283 

disapproval,  and  adroitly  taking  his  broom  from 
him  put  it  over  his  shoulder  and  began  to  march 
upstairs  with  it. 

Higby  came  scrambling,  stuttering,  and  scolding 
after  him,  and  Tom,  mischievously  allowing  him  to 
come  quite  near,  would  then  take  a  short  run. 

"Hello,  Tom,"  said  Titus,  familiarly. 

"Hello,"  returned  Tom,  looking  up.  "Since  when 
has  this  castle  been  in  a  state  of  siege?  Here,  re- 
tainer, take  your  flintlock,"  and  he  gayly  gave 
Higby  a  playful  dig  with  the  broom  as  he  handed  it 
to  him. 

"Since  the  assault  this  morning,"  said  Titus,  with 
a  laugh. 

"I  declare,"  said  Tom,  looking  down  at  Higby 
with  a  whimsical  face,  "I  was  just  about  to  lift  up 
my  voice  and  ask  you  to  call  off  your  dog.  I  believe 
the  old  fellow  has  gone  crazy.  Look  at  him  pranc- 
ing up  and  down  with  that  broom  over  his  shoulder." 

"Higby,"  said  Titus,  staring  down  at  him,  "put 
down  that  broom." 

"Y-y-yes,  sir." 

"And  sit  down  and  rest  yourself,"  continued 
Titus,  anxiously.  "You  look  tired.  I  believe  the 
events  of  the  morning  have  upset  him,"  he  said 
under  his  breath  to  Tom.  "I  found  him  crying  just 
now." 

"He  isn't  crying  now,"  said  Tom,  pointedly. 

Higby,  in  a  state  of  silly  glee,  was  seated  in  one 
of  the  high-backed  hall  chairs,  making  a  succession 
of  most  extraordinary  and  most  uncouth  noises. 

"Man,  what  are  you  trying  to  do?"  called  Titus, 
severely. 


284  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"B-b-bow-wow !  I'm  practicin'  a-barkin',"  re- 
plied Higby,  with  a  wild  burst  of  laughter.  "  'Tis 
the  second  time  this  mornin'  I've  been  called  a 
d-d-dog.  Missis  Blodgett,  she  begun  it.  M-m-mis- 
ter  Everest  here,  he  went  on  with  it.  Bow-wow- 
wow!  Ole  Higby's  a  d-d-dog.  Ha!  ha!  ha!" 

"He's  off  his  head  this  time,  Titus,  sure  pop," 
said  Tom.  "He  acted  like  a  fool  when  I  arrived. 
Shut  the  door  in  my  face,  and  when  I  went  round 
the  back  way  he  heard  me  coming  and  met  me  with 
that  broom." 

"Higby,"  said  Titus,  quietly. 

"Y-y-yes,  sir." 

"Come  here." 

The  old  man  got  up  and  came  giggling  upstairs. 

"Go  down  to  the  kitchen,"  commanded  Titus, 
"and  tell  Jennie  that  you  are  going  to  retire  to  your 
room  for  the  rest  of  the  day.  Then  march  upstairs, 
take  off  your  clothes,  and  get  into  bed.  Do  you  hear 
me?" 

"W-w-we're  a-goin'  to  have  some  d-d-delicious 
jelly  for  luncheon,"  said  Higby,  anxiously. 

"You  shall  have  some.  I'll  see  that  a  big  tray  of 
everything  going  is  sent  to  your  room.  Now 
hurry." 

"B-b-bow-wow,"  murmured  Higby,  under  his 
breath. 

"And  Higby,"  said  Tom,  kindly,  "I  was  only  in 
fun  when  I  called  you  a  dog.  You're  not  one  really, 
you  know." 

"Be  I  a  c-c-cat,"  inquired  Higby,  mildly. 

Tom's  evil  genius  prompted  him  to  yield  to  his 
impulse  to  make  fun. 


MRS.  EVEREST  BEGINS  TO  EXPLAIN      285 

"Yes,"  he  said,  wildly,  "meow,  meow,  poor  pussy. 
Scat!  Scat!" 

He  pretended  to  spit  and  hiss,  and  Higby  scuttled 
precipitately  downstairs. 

Tom  watched  him  going,  then  he  said,  soberly, 
"How  much  would  you  sell  that  fellow  for,  Titus?" 

"Grandfather  likes  him,"  said  the  boy,  briefly, 
and  he  was  nasty  to  you  because  he  had  been  told 
to  let  no  one  in." 

"Does  your  grandfather  let  your  servants  eat  just 
what  you  do?"  inquired  Tom,  curiously. 

"The  very  same.  You  ought  to  see  his  bills  in 
strawberry  season." 

"Berty  does  the  same;  everyone  in  the  house 
shares  alike,"  continued  Tom,  "but  my  people  don't. 
They  would  think  they  couldn't  afford  it.  Hello, 
here  we  are,"  and  he  entered  the  Judge's  study. 

"How  do  you  again,  sir,"  said  Tom,  shaking 
hands.  "I've  come  for  my  wife,  but  I  thought  I'd 
never  get  here." 

"Tom,  dear,  do  sit  down,"  said  Berty,  eagerly, 
"and  listen,  or  perhaps  you  can  help  me  with  my 
story.  I  was  just  at  the  most  exciting  part." 

Tom  and  Titus  seated  themselves  side  by  side  on 
the  sofa,  and  Mrs.  Everest  continued. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
THE  EXPLANATION  CONTINUED 

"As  I  was  saying  when  Titus  left  the  room,  this 
morning  was  the  time  fixed  by  the  kidnapers  for 
their  grand  stroke.  You,  in  all  ignorance  of  it,  and 
we,  too,  for  that  matter,  though  we  were  all  on  the 
alert,  watched  little  Bethany  go  to  school.  She  was 
quietly  and  happily  doing  her  tasks  with  the  other 
children  when  at  ten  o'clock  there  was  an  arrival 
at  her  teacher's  front  door." 

"I  think  you  said  that  you  took  Mrs.  Hume  into 
your  confidence,"  remarked  the  Judge. 

"Yes,  sir,  we  did;  therefore  when  her  maid  said 
that  there  was  a  carriage  at  the  door  and  that  a 
young  woman  wished  to  see  her,  Mrs.  Hume  went 
quickly  to  her  little  parlor.  She  said  a  respectably 
dressed  young  person  stood  there  and  said  that  you 
had  sent  her — " 

"That  I  ?"  inquired  the  Judge. 

"Yes,  that  you,  Judge  Sancroft,  had  requested 
her  to  call  and  get  Bethany ;  that  Mrs.  Tingsby  had 
been  taken  suddenly  ill,  and  you  had  gone  to  her; 
that  the  doctor  was  afraid  the  poor  woman  would 
die,  and  she  wished  to  see  Bethany.  The  whole 
thing  was  quite  natural.  Under  ordinary  circum- 
stances Mrs.  Hume's  suspicions  would  not  have  been 
aroused.  However,  knowing  what  we  had  told  her, 


THE  EXPLANATION  CONTINUED         287 

she  was  on  her  guard.  And  then,  of  course,  she  did 
not  know  that  the  woman's  story  was  false.  She 
asked  whether  it  wasn't  quite  a  drive  out  there,  and 
the  young  woman  said  yes,  about  five  miles.  She 
said  she  was  a  neighbor  of  Mrs.  Tingsby's,  and 
would  take  good  care  of  the  little  girl.  Mrs.  Hume 
said  she  would  get  Bethany  ready,  and  she  went 
away,  leaving  the  young  woman  in  the  parlor.  Now, 
we  had  had  a  telephone  put  into  Mrs.  Hume's  house 
in  the  attic,  and  hurrying  up  there  she  telephoned 
to  you." 

"I  remember,"  said  the  Judge.  "She  telephoned 
this  morning." 

"She  asked  whether  you  were  at  home." 

"She  did." 

"And  whether  the  Tingsbys  were  all  well." 

"And  I  told  her  that  they  were,  at  last  accounts, 
and  she  abruptly  informed  me  that  she  would  see 
me  later  in  the  day,  and  broke  off." 

"She  had  to  telephone  elsewhere,"  said  Mrs.  Ever- 
est, with  a  smile,  "and  her  time  was  limited.  She 
communicated  with  Harry  Busby,  the  newspaper 
reporter  across  the  street,  who  also  had  a  telephone 
in  his  apartment.  'Are  you  watching  for  that 
blessed  child,  Mr.  Busby  ?'  she  asked.  'I  am  watch- 
ing,' he  returned,  and  then  she  kissed  Bethany  and 
led  her  downstairs." 

The  Judge  shook  his  head. 

"Now,  don't  you  shake  your  head,"  said  Mrs.  Ev- 
erest, playfully,  "until  I  finish.  Good  is  coming  out 
of  all  this.  Mrs.  Hume  took  Bethany  in  the  parlor, 
she  introduced  her  to  the  young  woman,  and  Beth- 
any trustfully  put  out  her  little  hand.  She  was 


288  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

quite  ready  to  go  with  a  stranger,  if  Daddy  Grandpa 
wished  it." 

The  Judge  stretched  out  a  ringer  and  softly 
touched  the  sleepy  head  against  his  knee. 

"Mrs.  Hume  accompanied  them  to  the  front  door. 
'Take  good  care  of  the  child/  she  said,  anxiously, 
and  she  peered  into  the  interior  of  the  closed 
cab.  'Who  have  you  got  with  you?'  'My  sister,' 
replied  the  young  woman.  She  came  with 
me.' " 

"You  see,  there  were  four  accomplices,  sir,"  said 
Tom  Everest,  when  his  wife  paused  a  minute  and 
dabbed  the  perspiration  from  her  face  with  a  hand- 
kerchief. 

"Four?  Yes,  I  understand,"  replied  the  Judge. 
"Mrs.  Everest,  we  are  tiring  you." 

"Not  at  all;  I  want  to  tell  you.  I  really  enjoy 
giving  you  the  details.  Well,  Mrs.  Hume  was  in  an 
agony  when  she  saw  the  child  drive  away,  for  of 
course  she  knew  that  she  had  delivered  her  into  the 
hands  of  two  scapegrace  young  women.  However, 
she  raised  her  eyes  across  the  street.  There  was 
Harry  Busby  throwing  open  his  window  and  tossing 
aside  the  curtains.  She  knew  that  he  had  the  num- 
ber of  the  cab,  and  a  description  of  it,  and  that  he 
had  telephoned  to  police  headquarters.  The  cab 
would  hardly  be  round  the  corner  before  a  detective 
would  be  after  it.  Then  there  was  Cracker  scorch- 
ing up  and  down  beside  it,  his  bad  little  head  thrown 
over  his  handle  bars,  his  gimlet  eyes  looking  every- 
where but  at  the  driver,  and  yet  observing  his  every 
movement.  He  remembered  his  orders.  He  was 
artlessly  to  follow  any  vehicle  that  left  Mrs.  Hume's. 


THE  EXPLANATION  CONTINUED         289 

Bethany  was  safe,  but  poor  Mrs.  Hume  was  in  tor- 
ture. She  came  on  with  a  raging  headache,  had  to 
send  her  scholars  home,  and  go  to  bed." 

"I  should  think  she  needed  to,"  remarked  the 
Judge. 

"Ere  this  she  has  heard  of  our  happy  issue  out  of 
our  difficulties,"  continued  Mrs.  Everest.  "Well, 
our  cab  went  on  its  way." 

"Tell  the  Judge  what  order  the  young  woman 
gave  the  driver,"  interposed  Tom. 

"O,  yes,  I  forgot  that.  Before  they  left  Mrs. 
Hume's  the  young  woman  said  to  the  cabman,  'Go 
to  Jones's  drug  store  on  Broadway.'  Then  she  ex- 
plained to  Mrs.  Hume  that  they  had  to  call  there 
for  medicine.  They  were  really  going  to  the  rail- 
way station,  but  she  didn't  want  either  Mrs.  Hume 
or  the  cabman  to  know  it.  Upon  arriving  at  Jones's 
the  two  young  women  and  a  little  boy  stepped  out 
of  the  cab,  dismissed  the  driver,  and  went  in  the 
store." 

"They  had  metamorphosed  Bethany,  I  suppose," 
said  the  Judge,  quietly. 

"Yes,  sir.  As  soon  as  they  got  her  away  from 
Mrs.  Hume  these  two  women  overwhelmed  her  with 
caresses  and  gave  her  a  box  of  candy,  which  they 
said  you  had  sent  her.  They  also  informed  her  that 
you  were  going  to  New  York,  and  that  she  was  to 
go,  too ;  that  you  would  meet  her  there.  Her  grand- 
father, her  mother's  father,  had  heard  of  her,  and 
wanted  to  see  her.  He  was  going  to  give  her  a 
lovely  house,  full  of  dolls,  and  birds,  and  all  kinds 
of  toys.  Now,  you  see  all  this  harmonized  with 
what  the  child  had  learned  from  her  mother  and 


290  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Mrs.  Tingsby.  To  any  ordinary  child  it  might  have 
seemed  remarkable,  but  Bethany  had  been  brought 
up  on  expectations." 

"Don't  forget  the  boy  part,"  suggested  her  hus- 
band. 

"No,  I  was  just  coming  to  it.  These  two  young 
women  told  Bethany  that  in  order  to  please  her 
grandfather,  who  had  always  wished  for  a  little  boy, 
you  had  requested  her  to  put  on  boy's  clothes.  They 
had  this  little  suit  all  ready,"  and  Mrs.  Everest 
touched  the  boyish  little  garments  of  the  sleeping 
child,  "and  they  hurried  her  into  it,  and  whipping 
out  a  pair  of  scissors  cut  off  her  hair  before  the 
bewildered  child  had  time  to  protest.  She  was  con- 
fused and  submissive,  and  I  fancy  they  kept  stuff- 
ing her  mouth  with  candy,  and  quoted  you  to  her. 
At  the  drug  store  they  bought  five  cents'  worth  of 
cough  drops,  then  they  went  into  the  street  and 
walked  a  block  to  the  railway  station.  They  did  not 
hurry,  neither  did  they  dawdle.  They  did  not  want 
Bethany  to  speak  to  anyone." 

"Were  you  watching  them  then?"  inquired  the 
Judge. 

"No,  sir,  but  I  was  requested  to  go  to  the  station. 
I  was  to  have  the  proud  honor  of  rescuing  Bethany. 
Look  here,"  and  she  unbuttoned  her  jacket  and 
showed  a  little  white  apron  rolled  up  round  her 
waist.  I  was  in  the  kitchen  making  cakes.  When 
the  chief  of  police  telephoned  I  had  just  twenty  min- 
utes to  get  to  the  station.  I  caught  my  hat  and 
jacket  and  ran.  See,  I  have  no  gloves,"  and  she 
spread  out  her  bare  hands. 

Her  expression   was   so   good,   so  genuine,   so 


THE  EXPLANATION  CONTINUED         291 

lovely,  that  the  Judge  seized  one  of  her  hands  and 
pressed  it  warmly.  "Go  on,  my  dear  girl,"  he  said, 
affectionately. 

"I  just  rushed  to  the  station,"  she  said.  "The 
chief  of  police  was  there,  the  chief  detective  was 
there.  One  was  standing  by  the  ticket  office,  the 
other  was  loitering  about  the  platform  at  which  the 
train  for  Boston  and  New  York  was  to  arrive  in 
three  minutes.  I  passed  by  the  ticket  office.  The 
chief  gave  a  nod  in  the  direction  of  the  platform. 
I  hurried  on,  and  my  eyes  went  roving  to  and  fro. 
I  saw  the  two  women  and  the  little  boy.  I  saw  a 
great  many  other  people,  men,  women,  and  children. 
All  had  the  air  of  going  on  a  journey,  and,  just  to 
show  how  one's  eye  needs  to  be  trained  for  such 
work,  I  did  not  recognize  Bethany,  the  two  women 
stood  so  adroitly  talking  to  each,  and  rather  hiding 
her  face  by  their  bags  and  cloaks." 

"Not  purposely  hiding?"  commented  the  Judge. 

"O,  no,  that  would  have  aroused  my  suspicion  at 
once.  They  stood  so  naturally  that  actually  the  de- 
tective had  to  come  over  and  stand  beside  them, 
almost  to  point  to  them,  before  I  took  in  the  situa- 
tion. Then  I  boldly  walked  up  to  them.  'Bethany/ 
I  said  in  a  low  voice. 

"You  should  have  seen  the  sharp  look  these 
women  gave  me.  For  just  one  instant  they  were 
off  their  guard.  Up  to  that  minute  I  don't  think 
they  had  an  idea  that  they  were  being  followed. 
Then  they  recovered  themselves  and  looked  down 
quite  composedly  at  Bethany." 

"And  what  did  she  do?"  burst  excitedly  from 
Titus. 


292  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

They  all  turned  to  him,  and  Mrs.  Everest  went  on 
with  a  smile:  "The  little  creature  said,  'O,  Mrs. 
Everest !'  as  if  she  were  glad  to  see  some  one  she 
knew.  However,  she  has  not  met  me  so  very  many 
times,  so  she  was  just  a  little  shy.  But  she  put  out 
a  hand  to  me,  and  looked  queerly  at  the  women,  as 
if  she  didn't  just  like  going  with  them." 

"Why  are  you  dressed  like  a  little  boy?"  I  asked, 
"and  what  are  you  doing  here?" 

"Is  this  your  little  child,  madam?"  said  one  of 
the  women,  respectfully. 

"  'No/  I  replied,  'but  I  know  her.  Where  did  you 
get  her?' 

"  'The  woman  who  takes  care  of  the  waiting 
room  told  us  that  she  had  been  left  here.  Her 
mother  missed  her  when  the  last  train  passed 
through  for  Boston.  She  asked  us  to  take  charge 
of  her,  and  we  consented.' 

"  'Why  is  she  dressed  like  a  boy  ?'  I  asked, 
severely. 

"The  young  woman  shrugged  her  shoulders. 
'She  is  just  as  we  found  her.' 

"Bethany,  who  had  been  following  our  conversa- 
tion with  much  interest,  at  this  piped  up,  and  point- 
ing to  a  suit  case  that  one  of  them  carried  said, 
'Bethany's  clothes  are  in  there.' 

"A  very  ugly  look  came  over  the  young  woman's 
face.  She  knew  that  she  was  trapped.  I  saw  her 
glance  at  the  other.  Out  of  the  mouth  of  a  little 
child  they  had  been  condemned.  O,  Judge,  I  looked 
for  some  sign  of  softening,  some  regret,  some  tender 
feeling.  There  was  nothing. 

"We  heard  a  dull   roar  in  the  distance.     The 


"Why  are  you  dressed  like  a  little  boy?"  I  asked. 


293 

train  was  coming  in.  The  women  looked  at  each 
other  again.  They  were  uncertain  just  what  to  do. 
I  think  they  had  concluded  that  I  was  a  chance 
passer-by  and  had  made  up  their  minds  to  rush  for 
the  train  in  the  confusion.  I  had  seized  Bethany 
tightly  by  the  hand.  They  knew  they  could  not 
take  her  with  them. 

"  'Don't  move,'  I  said,  in  a  low  voice,  'there  are 
two  police  officers  in  plain  clothes  behind  you/ 
Now,  you  know,  Judge,  we  were  all  scattered,  we 
watchers,  even  though  Bethany  had  been  stolen. 
Harry  Busby  was  still  on  duty,  Cracker  was  watch- 
ing, the  second  newspaper  reporter  was  keeping  his 
eyes  open,  and  Jennie  and  Dallas  were  by  no  means 
asleep,  though,  of  course,  they  were  busy  with  their 
respective  duties — Jennie  here  in  the  house  and 
Dallas  at  school.  But  we  weren't  sure  of  the  plan 
of  the  miscreants,  Barry  warned  us.  He  said,  'Don't 
let  them  fool  you  by  dragging  a  red  herring  across 
your  track.'  We  did  not  know  the  extent  of  their 
designs.  Bethany's  capture  might  have  been  only 
the  preliminary  to  something  else.  However,  as  it 
turns  out,  it  was  the  beginning  and  end,  and  quite 
enough  it  is,  I  think." 

"What  about  the  women?"  asked  the  Judge. 

"O,  the  train  thundered  in  and  thundered  out. 
We  wanted  to  see  if  they  would  have  any  confed- 
erates on  board.  No  one  got  off  to  meet  them,  and 
then  we  turned.  Such  a  quiet  little  group — the  two 
women,  Bethany,  two  policemen,  and  I.  We  walked 
down  the  platform  together.  The  women  were 
clever  enough  not  to  make  a  fuss.  When  we  got 
to  the  place  where  the  carriages  stand  there  was 


294  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Mr.  Mclntyre,  the  detective,  holding  open  a  carriage 
door.  The  two  women  got  in,  and  he  followed 
them.  I  could  not  leave  them  that  way.  I  rushed 
impulsively  up  to  the  door.  I  said,  'O,  tell  me  you 
are  sorry  for  this.'  It  seemed  to  me  that  even  then 
I  could  have  forgiven  them  for  their  crime  if  there 
had  been  the  least  sign  of  contrition/' 

"Did  they  say  anything  to  you,  Berty?"  asked 
her  husband,  eagerly. 

"One  of  them  sneered,  the  other  made  a  dreadful 
remark  in  which  she  invoked  vengeance  on  me  for 
interfering  with  their  scheme.  It  was  no  time  to 
reason  with  them.  They  were  too  sore  over  their 
defeat,  but  I  shall  take  pains  to  see  them  to-morrow." 

"If  the  affair  was  managed  so  quietly,  how  is  it 
that  it  got  over  the  city  so  quickly?"  inquired  the 
Judge. 

Berty  laughed  gleefully.  "O,  those  newspaper 
men!  They  had  done  such  yeoman's  service  that 
we  were  obliged  to  let  them  have  their  own  way  at 
the  last.  You  see,  both  men  who  helped  us  were 
on  the  staff  of  the  News.  It  was  too  good  a  chance 
to  triumph  over  their  rivals.  So  they  had  every- 
thing ready.  Bulletin  boards  were  out,  and  extras 
were  being  prepared,  almost  before  the  women  got 
to  the  prison  or  I  reached  my  home  with  Bethany.  I 
took  her  there  to  change  her  clothes,  but  found  when 
we  got  to  the  door  that  I  had  forgotten  to  get  the 
suit  case  from  the  wicked  women,  so  we  wheeled 
about  and  came  here.  By  that  time  the  news  had 
gone  by  word  of  mouth  just  like  wildfire.  I  don't 
know  when  I  have  seen  the  city  so  excited,  unless  it 
was  when  we  had  our  last  presidential  election.  I 


THE  EXPLANATION  CONTINUED         295 

am  proud  of  the  way  my  fellow  citizens  are  stand- 
ing by  the  rights  of  children." 

She  stopped,  fanned  herself  with  a  newspaper, 
and  they  all  gazed  silently  at  her. 

They  were  waiting  for  the  Judge  to  speak.  "My 
dear  young  lady,"  he  said,  in  a  moved  voice,  "you 
are  reaping  what  you  have  sowed.  Nearly  five 
years  ago  you  began  your  cry  for  the  children. 
Day  after  day  you  have  unweariedly  gone  on  with 
your  good  work.  This  demonstration  to-day  was 
more  for  you  than  for  me." 

"Dear  Judge,"  she  said,  extending  a  hand  and 
speaking  with  exquisite  gentleness,  "can  we  not 
say  that  youth  and  advancing  age  are  united  in  this  ? 
Together  they  stand,  divided  they  fall." 

She  rose  as  she  spoke,  but  the  Judge  made  a 
gesture  to  detain  her.  "It  only  remains  for  me  to 
thank  you  most  heartily  for  what  you  have  done  for 
me.  We  will  go  over  the  thing  more  in  detail  at 
some  future  day.  I  must  be  very  largely  in  your 
debt,  pecuniarily.  As  for  the  moral  aspect  of  the 
case,  my  mind  seems  to  falter  and  stagger  when  I 
think  of  it.  There  seems  to  be  an  awful  cloud  over- 
shadowing me — a  cloud  of  possibilities — of  prob- 
abilities. Suppose  you  had  not  rescued  Bethany, 
what  would  have  been  her  fate?" 

The  Judge's  voice  broke.  He  was  overcome  by 
emotion.  "I  want  to  see  the  cat  man,"  he  said  at 
last,  weakly.  "He  is  at  the  root  of  this  deliverance." 

There  was  nothing  amusing  about  his  remark, 
but  they  all  broke  out  laughing.  There  had  been 
a  great  strain  on  their  nerves  during  the  past  few 
hours. 


296  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Titus  and  Dallas  roared  until  they  woke  up  Beth- 
any, who  sleepily  rubbed  her  eyes  and  looked  about 
her.  Mrs.  Everest  laughed  so  heartily  that  at  last 
she  began  to  cry. 

"Come,"  said  her  husband,  inexorably,  and  he 
checked  his  own  amusement.  "Come  now,  old  girl. 
You  can't  be  domestic,  motherly,  and  grandmotherly 
to  a  whole  city  without  your  nerves  going  on  strike 
occasionally.  You  come  home  and  play  with  your 
baby  and  Cracker.  He's  cutting  up  Jack." 

Berty  weakly  wiped  her  eyes.  When  there  was 
work  to  be  done  she  regained  her  self-control. 

"What  is  he  doing?"  she  asked. 

"Teasing  the  life  out  of  Daisy  and  the  cook.  They 
locked  him  in  his  room  and  telephoned  to  me  at  the 
iron  works." 

"Good-bye,  dear  Judge,"  said  Berty,  hastily.  "I'll 
see  you  soon  again,"  and  she  fairly  ran  from  the 
room. 

"Tom,"  she  said  to  her  husband  on  their  way 
home,  "human  nature  is  a  queer  thing,  isn't  it?" 

"Mighty  queer,  Berty." 

"Do  you  know,  when  I  first  began  my  story  of 
the  Bethany  affair  the  dear  old  Judge  was  inclined 
to  stand  off  and  criticize." 

"That  was  the  man  of  him.  He  would  like  to 
have  been  consulted  and  to  have  engineered  the 
affair." 

"In  anticipating  these  revelations  I  really  sup- 
posed that  he  would  fall  on  my  neck  when  I  told 
him  what  we  had  done,"  continued  Berty,  thought- 
fully. 

"And  you  say  he  didn't — just  stood  back  and 


THE  EXPLANATION  CONTINUED          297 

criticised?  How  funny,"  and  Tom  laughed  irre- 
pressibly. 

"But  he  changed,"  pursued  Berty,  earnestly.  "It 
seemed  to  come  over  him  that  a  dreadful  fate  might 
have  been  poor  Bethany's  if  we  had  not  rescued 
her." 

"Of  course  he  changed — would  have  been  a 
donkey  if  he  hadn't,"  said  Tom,  disrespectfully. 
"You're  all  right,  Berty — always  were  and  always 
will  be." 

"And  so  are  you,  Tom,"  she  responded,  gener- 
ously. 

"However,  speaking  of  Bethany,"  he  went  on, 
"no  dreadful  fate  would  have  overtaken  her  for  a 
while.  Suppose  the  women  had  made  off  with  her. 
They  would  have  taken  mighty  good  care  of  her 
till  the  ransom  business  was  settled." 

Berty  shuddered.  "Suppose  no  ransom  had  been 
given  ?" 

"O,  I  fancy  Bethany,  being  a  nice  child,  would 
make  friends  and  settle  down  to  business.  She 
would  adapt  herself  to  a  changed  environment. 
She  would  make  a  pretty  little  thief." 

"Tom,  don't  jest  on  such  a  subject,"  said  Berty, 
passionately.  Then  she  went  on  in  a  musing  tone, 
"Since  this  affair  began  I  have  thought  so  much 
of  another  kidnaping  case  that  Barry  told  me 
about." 

"O,  that  New  York  affair?" 

"Yes — the  only  son  of  a  widow.  O,  Tom,  sup- 
pose our  baby  were  taken  from  us?" 

"Are  you  pining  to  be  left  childless  and  a  wid- 
ow?" he  asked,  pointedly. 


298  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"Tom,  don't.  You  have  that  hopeless  national 
habit  of  jesting  upon  every  subject.  Do  be  serious. 
I  assure  you  I  dream  of  that  widow." 

"Why  doesn't  she  get  her  boy  back?" 

"She  can't  raise  the  money.  She  hasn't  got  it. 
Barry  thinks  the  Smalley  gang  is  in  the  affair.  I 
wonder  whether  these  women  would  know  anything 
about  it?" 

"Possibly;  ask  them." 

"I  will;  and  Tom,  as  soon  as  we  get  home  tele- 
phone to  the  fish  market  to  have  a  boat  sent  for 
Barry.  I  want  him  to  come  up  this  evening  and 
talk  over  this  affair." 


CHAPTER  XXV 
VISITORS  FOR  THE  JUDGE 

Two  weeks  later  Berty  and  her  boy  were  spend- 
ing the  day  at  the  Judge's.  She  arrived  early  in 
the  morning. 

"Dear  Judge,"  she  said,  bundling  out  of  a  cab 
with  various  packages  and  looking  up  at  him  as  he 
stood  on  his  front  doorstep  throwing  crumbs  to  the 
sparrows,  "dear  Judge,  I  have  come  to  spend  the 
blessed,  livelong  day  with  you." 

"I  am  delighted,"  he  said,  gallantly,  and  throw- 
ing away  his  bread  he  hurried  down  the  steps  and 
took  the  baby  from  her." 

"Yesterday,"  she  went  ori,  "I  was  half  distracted 
with  calls  upon  me.  'Tom,'  I  said  to  my  husband, 
'if  I'm  spared  till  to-morrow  morning  I  am  going 
to  take  baby  and  hide  for  a  day.  You  get  up  early 
in  the  morning  and  go  to  your  mother's  for  break- 
fast, lunch,  and  dinner.  I  am  going  to  close  the 
house  and  give  Daisy  and  the  cook  a  holiday.' ' 

"And  what  did  your  husband  say?"  inquired  the 
Judge,  as  he  held  open  the  door  for  her.  "O,  my 
dear  lady — " 

"What  is  it  ?"  asked  Berty,  anxiously. 

"This  baby — he  is  putting  something  in  my  ear." 

"Gravel,"  said  his  mother,  as  she  stood  on  tiptoe 
and  examined  the  side  of  the  Judge's  head.  He  had 
his  hands  full  when  we  started.  He  is  the  most 


300  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

mischievous  baby  ever  born.  You  would  better  give 
him  to  me.  You  take  the  packages,  and  I  will  take 
him." 

"No,  no ;  he  is  too  heavy  for  you  to  carry." 

"Have  you  had  breakfast?"  inquired  Berty,  as 
the  Judge  went  toward  the  dining  room. 

"No,  not  yet.  I  was  just  waiting  for  the  chil- 
dren." 

"Here  they  come,"  said  Berty,  looking  up  the 
stairway.  "Good-morning,  lammies." 

Bethany  and  the  boys  pressed  about  Berty.  They 
all  loved  her,  and  the  baby  was  a  great  attraction 
to  them.  He  pulled  out  a  wisp  of  Bethany's  hair, 
untied  Dallas's  necktie,  and  slapped  Titus,  all  in  the 
compass  of  a  minute,  but  without  the  slightest  re- 
sentment they  politely  crowded  each  other  in  endeav- 
oring to  get  a  seat  near  him  during  prayer  time. 

His  behavior  during  the  reading  of  a  psalm  was 
so  disgraceful  that  his  mother  was  obliged  to  carry 
him  out  of  the  room.  Chuckling  gayly,  and  not  at 
all  abashed,  he  came  back  in  time  for  breakfast. 

His  exploits  at  the  table,  especially  with  a  cream 
jug  and  his  mother's  plate  of  mush,  became  so  exas- 
perating that  at  last  she  put  him  on  the  floor  with  a 
crust  of  bread. 

He  was  not  hungry,  having  breakfasted  earlier, 
so,  taking  his  crust,  he  crawled  under  the  table  and 
polished  the  children's  shoes  with  it.  In  huge 
delight  Bethany  and  the  boys,  with  little  explosive 
bursts  of  laughter,  submitted  to  his  manipulations, 
while  his  mother  talked  to  the  Judge. 

"Can  you  love  your  work  and  yet  get  tired  of  it?" 
she  was  inquiring  searchingly  of  her  older  friend. 


VISITORS  FOR  THE  JUDGE  301 

The  Judge  shook  his  head,  not  negatively,  but  in 
a  thoughtful  manner.  "O,  so  tired,  my  dear  friend, 
especially  when  the  flesh  grows  weak." 

"  'The  ghost  is  willing,  but  the  meat  is  weak,' 
a  Frenchman  once  said,"  continued  Berty,  with  a 
laugh.  "Well,  Judge,  yesterday  I  thought  I  would 
go  crazy.  They  began  before  I  was  out  of  bed. 
'Mrs.  Everest,'  said  Daisy  at  my  door,  'the  man  at 
the  Babies'  Supply  Depot  says  an  accident  has  hap- 
pened to  the  fresh-milk  van.  The  cans  are  upset. 
What  shall  he  do?'  'Do/  I  said,  'the  foolish  man! 
Why,  do  the  best  he  can.  There  are  other  cows. 
Let  him  ransack  the  town  for  fresh  milk.  Tele- 
phone to  the  suburban  places.  There  is  milk  some- 
where. We've  got  to  have  it  for  the  River  Street 
babies.  Why  does  he  waste  time  by  coming  to  me  ? 
I  put  him  there;  let  him  look  after  his  business. 
If  he  doesn't  I'll  discharge  him/  ' 

"Do  have  some  of  this  Cloverdale  honey,"  said 
the  Judge,  "it  is  delicious." 

"Now,  Judge,  you  think  I  want  sweetening,"  she 
said,  with  a  mischievous  twinkling  of  her  black 
eyes,  "but  you've  got  to  hear  all  my  troubles.  Let 
me  see,  what  was  the  next  thing?  O,  yes,  I  know 
— and  this,  too,  before  I  was  out  of  bed:  Daisy 
calls  through  the  door,  'Mrs.  Everest,  the  footman 
from  Miss  Sally  Draylittle's  is  here.  He  says  that 
his  lady  says  that  the  Angora  cat  she  bought  from 
your  cat  farm  is  going  round  with  its  leg  hanging 
loose.  What  shall  she  do?'  " 

Dallas,  who  was  listening  to  Berty,  began  to 
laugh. 

"I  don't  wonder  you  laugh,"  said  Berty,  indig- 


302  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

nantly.  "Did  you  ever  hear  of  such  a  helpless 
woman  trying  to  run  an  establishment?  'Tell  the 
footman  to  tell  Miss  Draylittle  to  send  for  a  good 
veterinary.  The  cat  has  probably  broken  her  leg.' 
Then  let  me  see,  what  came  next?  I've  got  to  tell 
you  quickly  while  I'm  cross  about  it,  for  when  I  get 
cool  I  shall  be  ashamed  of  myself  for  telling  my 
trials,  even  to  such  dear  friends  as  you  all  are." 

"You  in  your  work  are  hampered  by  inefficient 
persons  in  places  of  trust,"  said  the  Judge,  philo- 
sophically. 

"That's  it  in  a  nutshell,"  said  Berty.  "Why,  the 
average  person  doesn't  seem  to  think.  My  next 
call  was  to  go  to  see  a  sick  woman.  She  wasn't 
sick;  she  was  troubled  and  uneasy.  Her  husband 
had  left  home  in  a  temper  the  night  before  and 
hadn't  come  back.  She  frightened  me  and  I  fright- 
ened her.  She  poured  out  her  woes  to  me,  and  I 
said,  'I  don't  blame  him.  If  I  were  your  husband 
I  wouldn't  come  back  for  a  week.'  The  poor  crea- 
ture stared  at  me.  'Why,  look  about  you,'  I  said. 
'Look  at  this  dirty  room,  this  filthy  room.  How 
could  a  man  sit  down  in  it  with  self-respect.  Stop 
your  crying  and  clean  it.'  And  do  you  know,  Judge, 
I  couldn't  make  her  see  it  was  dirty.  I  sent  for  two 
men  and  had  her  moved  bag  and  baggage  into  two 
clean  rooms  in  that  house  you  were  good  enough 
to  buy  for  my  poor  people ;  and  now  the  question  is, 
will  she  have  sense  enough  to  keep  it  clean  ?" 

"Reform  is  losing  some  of  its  rosy  hues  to  you," 
the  Judge  observed,  sententiously. 

Berty  laughed.  "Please  give  me  some  more 
honey,  and  just  you  try  criticising  River  Street. 


VISITORS  FOR  THE  JUDGE  303 

Then  you  will  find  out  where  baby  gets  his  temper. 
I  scold  those  people  frightfully,  but  I  love  them. 
Titus,  are  you  coming  to  live  on  River  Street  with 
me  when  you  get  to  be  a  man?"  and  she  turned  to 
the  boy. 

"No,  but  perhaps  I  can  help  you,"  he  said,  mod- 
estly. "I  was  thinking  that  on  that  stock  farm 
grandfather  is  going  to  let  me  have  there  will  be 
plenty  of  room  for  some  cottages  for  poor  sick  folks, 
and  I  would  like  to  have  some  of  the  children  out 
every  day." 

"You  dear,"  she  said,  enthusiastically;  then  as 
he  began  an  animated  conversation  with  Titus  on 
the  subject  of  farming  she  remarked  in  a  low  voice 
to  the  Judge,  "Why,  that  boy  has  stopped  stam- 
mering, hasn't  he?" 

The  Judge  nodded.  "I  will  tell  you  about  it  pres- 
ently."' 

When  the  two  boys  and  the  little  girl  were  ex- 
cused from  the  table,  and  got  up  to  go  to  school, 
there  were  simultaneous  squeals  of  laughter  from 
them.  Their  shoes  were  all  slipping  off  their  feet. 

"It's  that  cute  little  baby,"  observed  Bethany, 
"he's  untied  all  our  shoes." 

"Mine  are  not  only  untied,  but  off  my  feet,"  said 
Berty,  unconcernedly.  ".Perhaps  Higby  will  be 
good  enough  to  find  them." 

The  old  man,  who  was  grinning  with  delight 
over  the  baby's  antics,  found  one  in  the  coal  hod. 
The  other  was  discovered  an  hour  later  out  in  the 
yard,  where  it  had  been  carried  by  Bylow  the  dog, 
he  having  probably  picked  it  up  in  the  back  hall, 
where  it  had  been  thrown  by  Tom,  junior. 


304  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"Why,  I  believe,"  said  the  Judge,  shuffling  his 
feet  about,  "that  the  little  rascal  has  untied  my  laces. 
Dallas,  just  look  before  you  leave  the  room.  I 
dislike  fussing  with  my  feet  after  I  am  fully 
dressed." 

Dallas  went  down  on  his  knees,  neatly  fastened 
the  Judge's  laces,  and  put  his  feet  on  a  stool  where 
they  would  be  slightly  out  of  baby's  way. 

"Who  is  going  to  take  Bethany  to  school  this 
morning?"  asked  the  Judge. 

"It's  my  turn,"  replied  Titus. 

"Good-bye,  Daddy  Grandpa,"  said  the  little  girl, 
coming  to  kiss  him. 

"Good-bye,"  he  said,  "mind  and  wait  for  Jennie 
to  come  and  bring  you  home.  Don't  leave  Mrs. 
Hume's  alone." 

"No,  dear  Daddy  Grandpa."  Then  she  went  on, 
anxiously,  "Will  the  baby  be  here  when  Bethany 
comes  home?" 

"I  hope  so,"  said  the  Judge,  politely. 

"Yes,  he  will,"  said  Berty,  "that  dreadful  baby 
will  be  here  for  luncheon,  and  for  dinner,  too,  if  he 
is  not  turned  out  before  then." 

The  Judge  smiled.  "He  won't  be.  I  have  a  fel- 
low-feeling for  that  baby.  Many  a  time  I  have 
heard  my  dear  departed  mother  say  that  I  was  one 
of  the  worst  children  she  ever  saw." 

"O,  Judge,"  said  Berty,  vivaciously,  "is  that  true  ? 
Can  it  be  that  there  is  hope  for  my  baby  of  becom- 
ing a  man  like  you  ?" 

"Tut !  tut !  he  will  be  a  far  better  one." 

"Judge,  will  you  take  him  and  bring  him  up?" 

The  Judge  tried  to  repress  a  shudder,  but  could 


VISITORS  FOR  THE  JUDGE  305 

not.  He  liked  Berty's  baby,  and  had  great  patience 
with  him  as  an  occasional  visitor,  but  as  steady  com- 
pany— "No,"  he  said,  thoughtfully,  "that  baby  needs 
a  mother." 

"So  he  does,"  said  Berty,  catching  him  up  in  her 
arms,  "mother's  great  fat  lump  of  flesh  with  a 
naughty  little  mind  inside.  Now,  Judge,  what  are 
you  going  to  do  this  morning?" 

"I  am  going  to  entertain  you,"  he  said,  politely. 

"No,  no,  I  only  stay  on  condition  that  I  don't 
interfere  with  your  regular  occupations.  Baby  and 
I  can  amuse  ourselves." 

"I  assure  you  that  I  would  rather  stay  with  you 
than  do  anything  else,"  said  the  Judge. 

"Well,"  she  returned,  "you  are  a  truthful  man, 
and  I  believe  you.  Will  you  take  me  to  see  the 
pigeons  first  thing?  But  what  shall  we  do  with 
baby?" 

"Higby,"  said  the  Judge,  "you  are  fond  of  chil- 
dren. You  amuse  him." 

The  old  man  deliberately  came  forward  and  re- 
ceived the  crowing  baby  in  his  arms. 

Young  Tom  was  too  much  accustomed  to 
strangers  to  object,  and  at  once  he  was  fascinated 
by  Higby's  teeth,  which  were  rather  large  and 
curiously  shaped.  Insinuating  all  his  pink  fingers  in 
the  man's  mouth,  to  tried  to  take  them  out.  They 
would  not  come. 

"If  you  don't  object  to  that,  Higby,"  said  Mrs. 
Everest,  "it  is  a  sure  way  to  amuse  him." 

Higby  gurgled  a  reply  in  the  affirmative,  and 
Berty  went  away  with  the  Judge. 

"O,  the  lovely  creatures,"  she  exclaimed,  when 


306  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

a  few  minutes  later  they  entered  the  pigeon  loft, 
"and  how  tame  they  are !" 

The  pigeons  were  flying  all  over  the  Judge,  light- 
ing on  his  head,  his  shoulders,  his  arms,  and  gently 
tapping  him  with  their  beaks. 

"They  are  becoming  tamer  every  day,"  he  said. 
"It  is  wonderful  what  kind  treatment  will  do  in  de- 
veloping the  intelligence  of  the  lower  order  of 
creation." 

"I  suppose  Titus  pets  these  birds  very  much." 

"O,  yes,  he  and  Bethany  are  indefatigable.  I 
watched  him  at  first,  for  I  thought  he  might  neglect 
them,  but  he  does  not." 

"I  used  to  keep  pigeons,"  said  Berty,  wistfully. 
"I  was  very  fond  of  them." 

"I  am  sure  Titus  would  give  you  a  pair  or  two, 
if  you  wish  to  start  again.  He  won't  let  everybody 
have  them,  but  he  would  be  sure  of  your  devotion 
to  them." 

"I  should  love  to  have  some,"  she  said,  enthusias- 
tically. "By  the  way,  Judge,  tell  me  about  his 
stammering.  Is  he  really  cured?" 

"You  noticed  that  he  spoke  slowly." 

"Yes,  I  did." 

"He  is  trying  to  cure  himself,  really  trying  hard 
now.  He  got  a  shock  the  other  day  that  started  him 
in  the  right  direction.  It  was  after  Airy  Tingsby's 
last  visit  here.  Just  as  soon  as  she  went  away  I 
called  him  to  me.  'Titus,'  I  said,  'did  you  notice 
that  Airy  stammered  quite  often  during  dinner,  and 
in  the  evening  ?' 

"  'Yes/  he  said,  reluctantly,  'he  had.5 

"  'Do  you  know,'  I  said,  'that  that  little  girl  has 


VISITORS  FOR  THE  JUDGE  307 

set  up  a  lofty  ideal  for  herself.  She  wishes  to  be 
a  perfect  lady.' 

"Titus  said  he  knew  that. 

"  'And  you/  I  said,  'are  going  to  be  a  stumbling- 
block.  So  anxious  is  she  to  imitate  the  members  of 
this  family  in  every  particular  that  she  is  going  to 
copy  our  bad  as  well  as  our  good  qualities.  Now, 
don't  you  think  you  ought  to  endeavor  to  shake  off 
this  habit  of  stammering  ?' 

"Titus  asked  me  if  I  thought  she  was  imitating 
him  purposely. 

"  'Do  you  think  so  yourself  ?'  I  asked. 

"He  gave  me  to  understand  that  he  did  not,  that 
she  was  so  consumed  by  a  burning,  intense  desire  to 
improve  that  she  unconsciously  caught  up  every- 
thing he  said,  absorbed  all  his  words,  and  his 
mannerisms  with  them. 

"I  did  not  need  to  say  anything  further.  The  boy 
was  perfectly  upset  over  the  affair,  so  much  so  that 
I  wondered.  He  was  ashamed  of  standing  in  the 
way  of  a  girl — and  such  a  fragile  piece  of  ambition 
as  Airy.  So  he  set  himself  resolutely  to  conquer  his 
failing,  and  you  see  he  is  making  good  progress.  He 
slips  sometimes,  but  not  often." 

"Titus  is  a  noble  boy,"  said  Berty,  warmly.  "He 
is  going  to  make  a  fine  man." 


CHAPTER  XXVI 
THE  ONLY  SON  OF  A  WIDOW 

THE  Judge  looked  gratified  by  Berty's  praise  of 
Titus;  then,  leading  the  way  to  the  nest  boxes,  he 
pointed  to  some  young  pigeons  to  her. 

"O,  the  darling  things!"  exclaimed  Berty,  look- 
ing in  at  the  downy  creatures,  "and  all  in  twos.  Do 
they  always  have  two  young  ones  at  a  time?  My 
pigeons  never  nested." 

"Usually,  sometimes  only  one.  Of  course,  these 
pigeons  are  not  allowed  to  lay  during  the  cold 
weather.  They  are  just  beginning,  now  that  winter 
is  thinking  of  yielding  to  spring." 

"Just  look  at  them  trying  to  hiss  at  me,  Judge. 
Do  they  know  that  I  am  a  stranger  ?" 

"Certainly — try  these  homers." 

Berty  put  her  slim  hand  in  between  two  young 
homers,  who  promptly  beat  it  with  their  unfledged 
wings. 

"Naughty  little  squabs,"  said  Berty,  caressingly. 
"I  suppose  Titus  will  fly  these  homers  when  they 
grow  up.  Are  they  workers?" 

"Yes,  the  parents  have  a  record  of  five  hundred 
miles,  but  they  were  not  bred  in  this  loft,  so  he  can't 
let  them  out.  These  young  ones  would  come  back." 

"Training  homing  pigeons  must  be  great  sport," 
said  Berty,  enthusiastically. 

"It  is.  Even  Dallas  is  interested  in  that.  He 
has  been  reading  that  country  doctors  use  homing 


THE  ONLY  SON  OF  A  WIDOW          309 

pigeons  extensively  in  their  practice,  and  he  may 
have  to  start  in  the  country.  By  the  way,  speaking 
of  doctors,  some  one  said  Mafferty  is  ill;  is  he?" 

"Yes,  but  only  with  a  cold ;  nothing  serious.  His 
memories  of  the  last  few  weeks  keep  him  cheerful." 

"I  suppose  he  is  as  much  elated  as  ever  ?" 

"More  so — he  is  the  proudest  man  in  Riverport," 
and  Berty  laid  a  hand  on  an  elusive  fantail  and 
clasped  her  gently.  "No  one  could  be  more  de- 
lighted at  the  turn  affairs  took  with  regard  to  the 
kidnapers.  His  well-laid  plans  succeeded." 

"No  credit  was  given  him  by  the  press,"  remarked 
the  Judge.  "No  reporters  interviewed  him,  but  per- 
haps he  does  not  care  for  that  sort  of  thing." 

"Not  at  all.  He  shuns  notoriety.  All  the  people 
that  he  cared  about  gave  him  the  glory.  You,  in 
going  out  to  his  island,  and  wringing  his  hand,  con- 
ferred a  tremendous  honor  upon  him.  You  and  the 
chief  of  police  are  his  heroes,  and  at  police  head- 
quarters he  stands  very  high,  and  is  correspondingly 
set  up  by  it." 

"And  your  good  opinion,"  said  the  Judge,  point- 
edly; "he  knows  he  has  that." 

Berty  smiled.  "Amusing  to  retail,  he  does  not 
value  my  praise  half  as  much  as  he  does  yours,  or 
any  man's.  He  is  sure  of  me.  I  befriended  him 
when  he  was  friendless,  and  he  thinks  I  would  like 
him  no  matter  what  he  did.  He  likes  me  to  ap- 
prove; but  still,  nothing  I  could  say  or  do  would 
come  up  to  that  handshake  of  yours." 

"Remember  your  promise  to  let  me  know  if  there 
is  anything  I  can  do  for  him." 

"I  will.    Just  now  he  is  well  enough  as  he  is." 


3io  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"By  the  way,  are  you  still  going  to  see  those  un- 
fortunate women?" 

"O,  yes,  every  day  I  have  a  dreadful  feeling 
about  them.  I  in  one  way  am  responsible  for  their 
captivity.  I  vowed  that  I  would  do  all  I  could  to 
mitigate  it.  The  first  few  days,  as  I  told  you  when 
we  last  met,  they  would  have  nothing  to  say  to  me. 
Then  they  began  to  thaw  slightly.  Little  by  little 
they  seemed  to  understand  that  I  had  their  good  at 
heart." 

"Did  you  say  anything  to  them  about  the  other 
kidnaping  case  ?" 

"Yes,  but  not  until  three  days  ago.  I  told  them 
that  their  trial  would  soon  come  off;  that  if  they 
were  to  give  any  information  about  the  stolen  child 
it  might  influence  public  opinion  in  their  favor.  I 
could  get  nothing  out  of  them.  They  flatly  denied 
all  knowledge  of  the  missing  boy,  but  at  the  very 
first  instant  of  my  mentioning  the  affair  I  caught 
a  gleam  of  intelligence  in  the  eye  of  one  of  them. 
She  knew  something  about  it.  So  what  do  you 
think  I  did,  dear  Judge?" 

The  Judge  pushed  away  a  pouter  that  was  puffing 
and  swelling  out  on  his  shoulder.  "Well,"  he  said, 
mischievously,  "your  actions  are  sometimes  unex- 
pected." 

She  laughed  gayly.  "To  be  true  to  my  reputa- 
tion, they  were  in  this  case.  I  telegraphed  to  New 
York  to  the  little  widow.  I  said,  'Come  to  me,  and 
possibly  I  may  give  you  news  of  your  boy.'  The 
poor  little  woman  actually  flew  here.  I  wish  you 
could  have  seen  her,  Judge.  Such  a  teary,  weary, 
eerie  sort  of  a  widow.  All  big  eyes  and  veil,  and  so 


THE  ONLY  SON  OF  A  WIDOW          311 

consumed  with  sorrow,  which  one  could  not  wonder 
at." 

"Did  you  take  her  to  the  jail?" 

"I  did.  I  confronted  her  with  those  two  young 
women.  I  had  them  both  brought  into  the  same 
room.  I  made  no  explanation,  either  to  them  or  to 
the  widow,  whose  name  is  Mrs.  Tralee.  When  the 
two  women,  or  girls — for  neither  of  them  is  much 
over  twenty — came  in  I  abruptly  pointed  to  them, 
and  said  to  Mrs.  Tralee,  Those  girls  can  tell  you 
where  to  get  information  about  your  lost  boy.' 

"It  was  pitiful  to  see  that  little  widow's  face, 
Judge.  Just  imagine  her — alone  in  the  world,  one 
pet  boy,  and  he  snatched  from  her.  She  gave  me 
one  look,  one  terrible  look,  as  if  to  say,  'Are  you 
deceiving  me  ?'  I  shook  my  head  solemnly.  Those 
girls  either  knew  where  her  boy  was  or  could  tell  us 
who  did  know.  I  would  have  staked  my  life  on  it. 

"Mrs.  Tralee  wasted  no  time  in  preliminaries. 
She  fell  right  on  her  knees  before  them.  She,  a  rich 
woman,  cultured  and  refined  and  exquisitely  dressed, 
took  those  degraded  creatures  in  her  outstretched 
arms,  she  pleaded  with  them  as  for  her  soul's  salva- 
tion. 

"It  was  dreadful,  Judge.  I  never  heard  any- 
thing more  affecting  in  my  life.  I  just  stood  and 
cried  like  a  baby,  and  I  heard  a  sniffing  behind  the 
door  where  the  jailer  stood,  and  when  we  came  out 
I  noticed  his  eyes  were  all  red. 

"At  first  the  two  girls  tried  to  laugh  it  off.  They 
looked  sheepishly  at  each  other,  but  it  was  no  laugh- 
ing matter.  Despite  themselves,  and  hardened  as 
they  undoubtedly  are,  something  womanly  arose  in 


312  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

them,  something  responded  to  that  poor  little  wom- 
an's cries  and  groans. 

"As  I  said  before,  it  was  terrible.  It  gave  me  a 
kind  of  exquisite  pain  to  listen  to  Mrs.  Tralee.  She 
assured  the  girls  that  she  was  telling  the  truth  in  the 
sight  of  her  Maker  when  she  stated  that  the  ransom 
demanded  for  her  son  was  one  she  could  not  pay. 
The  money  left  to  her  by  her  husband  was  not  in 
her  sole  control.  She  would  sacrifice  every  cent  she 
herself  owned,  but  she  absolutely  could  not  touch 
the  fortune  left  in  trust  for  her  son. 

"The  two  girls  looked  at  each  other.  They  were 
getting  uneasy  and  shaky.  One  whispered  some- 
thing, the  other  responded,  then  they  tried  to  with- 
draw their  dresses  from  Mrs.  Tralee's  frantic  grasp. 
At  last  one  of  them,  with  a  kind  of  desperate  look, 
bent  over  and  said,  'Go  to  this  address  in  New  York 
— we  can't,  and  shan't  tell  you  a  word  more,'  and 
she  rattled  off  something  in  Mrs.  Tralee's  ears. 

"Then,  without  waiting  for  her  thanks,  they 
pulled  themselves  away  and  ran  to  the  door,  and  the 
jailer  took  them  to  their  cells. 

"Mrs.  Tralee  took  my  head  between  her  hands. 
She  gave  me  such  a  look,  Judge — such  a  look  from 
those  big  eyes  of  hers.  There  was  no  need  of 
speech.  Then  she  fairly  flew  to  the  railway  station, 
and  took  a  special  train  for  New  York ;  and  I  haven't 
heard  a  word  from  her  since." 

"How  long  ago  did  you  say  that  was  ?" 

"Three  days.  I  thought  she  would  telegraph  me. 
I  hope  that  those  girls  weren't  deceiving  her.  I  spoke 
to  them  about  it  yesterday  when  I  took  them  some 
things  to  eat,  and  they  were  utterly  unresponsive." 


THE  ONLY  SON  OF  A  WIDOW          313 

"I  imagine  from  what  you  have  told  me  of  this 
affair,"  said  the  Judge,  shrewdly,  "that  they  have 
not  misled  that  bereaved  woman.  You  will  hear 
from  her  later.  She  is  probably  in  communication 
with  the  child-stealers ;  quite  likely,  agreeing  upon 
some  concession — very  illegal,  but  very  easily  under- 
stood. But  come,  these  pigeons  are  getting  to  be 
too  aggressive.  Let  us  go  out  and  see  the  rest  of 
the  live  stock.  I  know  you  like  horses." 

"Love  them,"  said  Berty,  intensely,  "and  I  want 
to  see  the  cow,  too.  Brick  said  you  had  a  new  one. 
By  the  way,  how  is  the  boy  getting  on  ?" 

"Well,  I  don't  know  that  the  phrase  'getting  on' 
applies  to  Brick,"  observed  the  Judge,  cheerfully. 
"It  is  rather  a  kind  of  backward  and  forward  mo- 
tion that  keeps  him  in  about  the  same  place.  I  know 
I  have  felt  it  my  duty  to  raise  Roblee's  wages  in 
order  to  enable  him  to  bear  up  under  this  new  species 
of  trial." 

"The  Lord  will  reward  you,  Judge,"  said  Berty, 
heartily. 

"I  take  no  credit  to  myself,  not  a  particle,"  said 
the  Judge.  "I  come  in  contact  with  him  but  little. 
He  regards  Titus  as  his  special  oppressor.  Look 
up  there,  Mrs.  Everest." 

Berty  raised  her  eyes.  The  Judge  was  standing 
in  the  open  door  of  the  stable  pointing  toward  the 
house.  "Can  you  see  two  little  gray  balls  of  down 
up  at  the  top  of  that  old  elm?" 

"No,  sir,  I  can't." 

"Look  again — just  where  the  topmost  branches 
extend  under  the  gutter  at  the  roof's  edge." 

"O,  yes,  I  do  see  something — those  are  surely  not 


314  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

Dallas's  little  owls  that  Bethany  told  me  about  the 
other  day?" 

"Yes,  they  sit  there  asleep  all  day.  At  night  they 
fly  about.  What  did  Bethany  tell  you  about  them  ?" 

"After  I  rescued  her  from  those  women  she 
seemed  greatly  relieved,  and  confided  to  me  a  slight 
misgiving  she  had  had.  Suppose  they  had  taken  her 
to  New  York,  and  had  not  been  able  to  find  Daddy 
Grandpa.  'I  tell  you,  Mrs.  Everest,  what  Bethany 
would  do/  she  said,  sweetly,  to  me.  'Bethany  would 
open  her  window  at  night  and  call  'Frisco  and 
'Mento,  Dallas's  two  little  owls  that  fly  in  the  dark, 
and  she  would  say,  "Go  home  quickly  and  tell  Daddy 
Grandpa  that  Bethany  wants  him." 

The  Judge  was  listening  intently.  "How  curious 
is  the  working  of  a  child's  mind !"  he  said.  "In  that 
statement  she  confesses  a  belief  that  I  was  here  all 
the  time,  that  I  had  not  gone  to  New  York.  She 
must  have  had  an  intuitive  distrust  of  those 
women." 

"I  believe  she  had,"  said  Berty,  decidedly.  "It 
was  just  her  sweet,  yielding  nature  that  made  her 
go  with  them." 

"She  is  not  always  sweet  and  yielding.  You 
should  see  her  when  Airy  Tingsby  is  about." 

"I  know  she  does  not  like  Airy,"  said  Berty,  in  an 
amused  voice,  "but  Airy  likes  her." 

The  Judge  looked  grave.  "Bethany  is  trying  to 
overcome  her  dislike.  She  has  Airy  here  a  good 
deal  lately." 

"And  you  have  put  Airy  in  Miss  Featherby's 
school,  I  hear,"  said  Berty,  with  slight  curiosity. 

The  Judge  smiled.     "Yes,  you  know  Dallas  un- 


THE  ONLY  SON  OF  A  WIDOW          315 

dertook  to  instruct  her.  He  mystified  me  greatly, 
for  I  knew  he  did  not  mind  doing  it,  and  yet  he 
suddenly  became  loath  to  go  out  to  the  Tingsby  cot- 
tage to  give  Airy  her  lessons." 

"Of  course,  now,  you  understand  that  that  was 
in  consequence  of  his  instructions  from  us,  to  keep 
about  the  house  as  much  as  possible." 

"Yes,  now,  I  understand,  but  then  I  did  not. 
However,  I  reasoned  the  matter  out  with  myself. 
Airy  would  be  better  under  a  woman's  care,  so  I 
called  on  Miss  Featherby.  I  had  some  scruples 
about  putting  Airy  in  a  boarding  school." 

"And  such  a  fashionable  one,"  murmured  Berty. 

"But  Miss  Featherby  is  such  a  sensible,  such  a 
very  sensible  person,"  continued  the  Judge,  "that 
I  very  much  wished  Airy  to  be  under  her  care." 

"You  really  like  the  poor  little  mortal,  Judge,  I 
do  believe,"  exclaimed  Berty,  irrepressibly. 

The  Judge  looked  cautiously  over  his  shoulder 
as  if  he  were  afraid  the  horses  and  the  cow  might  be 
eavesdropping. 

"I  do  not  like  her,  I  do  not  like  her,"  he  said, 
seriously. 

Berty  burst  into  a  merry  peal  of  laughter.  "No 
one  does,  yet.  Why  is  it  she  makes  us  all  stand 
round?" 

"I  don't  like  her,"  repeated  the  Judge,  cautiously, 
"and  yet  I  find  myself  in  the  presence  of  a  very 
strong  young  personality  when  I  am  with  her.  That 
strength  will  be  expended  in  some  way.  If  I  can 
train  it,  perhaps  I  ought  to." 

"She  is  very  clever,  very  peculiar,  and  very  fas- 
cinating," said  Berty,  succinctly.  "She  could  twist 


316  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

me  round  her  little  ringer  if  she  wished  to,  but  she 
doesn't.  Her  ideals  are  not  mine." 

"She  has  affection,  too,"  said  the  Judge,  warmly. 
"She  came  rushing  in  the  morning  after  Bethany's 
attempted  capture  by  those  women  and  alarmed  me 
by  her  demonstrations  of  anger  and  alarm." 

"I  suppose  she  does  not  come  here  very  much  now 
that  she  is  at  Miss  Featherby's." 

"She  comes  whenever  she  is  allowed  to  go  out. 
If  it  is  to  go  downtown  with  a  teacher  she  takes  us 
in  on  her  way." 

Berty  laughed  again.  "You  will  have  to  adopt 
her  too,  Judge ;  that  is,  if  you  have  no  scruples  about 
lifting  her  out  of  her  sphere." 

"I  have  scruples,  but  what  am  I  to  do?  Is  not 
ambition  a  good  thing?  Mrs.  Tingsby  does  not 
want  to  rise,  Airy  does.  I  have  talked  very  seriously 
to  the  child.  I  have  explained  to  her  that  her  wild 
ambition  is  going  to  create  a  gulf  between  her  and 
her  family.  She  says  it  won't." 

"It  will,"  remarked  Berty,  decidedly. 

"Well,  my  course  is  clear,"  said  the  Judge.  "I 
feel  it.  The  spectacle  of  that  little  sick  creature  sit- 
ting up  at  night,  studying  in  a  cheerless  room, 
haunted  me.  I  have  put  her  where  she  is  warm  and 
comfortable,  where  her  very  environment  is  enough 
to  cheer  and  uplift  her." 

"How  does  she  get  on  with  the  other  girls?" 

The  Judge  smiled.  "Peculiarly.  I  fancied  that 
she  would  have  a  hard  time  with  them  on  account 
of  her  different  social  station.  However,  I  said  to 
her,  'No  stories,  Airy.  Tell  the  truth  about  your- 
self.' " 


THE  ONLY  SON  OF  A  WIDOW  317 

"And  did  she?" 

"She  did,"  said  the  Judge,  laconically.  Then,  after 
a  time,  he  laughed  suddenly  and  heartily.  "The 
truth  in  her  case  so  far  transcended  the  schoolgirls' 
anticipations  or  realizations  that  they  looked  upon  it 
as  the  wildest  absurdity." 

Berty  seemed  puzzled. 

The  Judge  repressed  his  amusement,  and  looking 
down  at  her  in  his  fatherly,  benevolent  way  said, 
"Imagine  to  yourself,  my  dear  Mrs.  Everest,  a 
schoolroom  full  of  girls,  all  interested  in  the  new- 
comer— I  have  this  straight  from  Airy — she,  poor 
child,  sitting  grim  and  composed,  ready  for  any- 
thing. Finally,  one  girl  plucks  up  courage  enough 
to  ask  Airy  what  her  name  is,  where  she  has  lived, 
how  many  servants  her  mother  kept,  what  her 
father's  business  is,  what  church  she  goes  to,  how 
much  money  she  has  in  the  bank,  how  many  silk 
dresses  her  mother  owns,  and  so  on." 

Berty  laughed  gleefully.  "I  know  them — that  is 
schoolgirls — they  are  so  delightfully  silly.  What 
did  Airy  say?" 

"The  truth,  the  whole  truth,  and  nothing  but  the 
truth." 

"And  the  girls  were  staggered,  I  suppose,"  chuck- 
led Berty. 

"Staggered  and  confounded.  Then  Airy  says  they 
looked  her  over.  Having  foreseen  something  of 
this,  in  a  dim  and  masculine  way,  I  had  taken  care 
to  provide  my  protegee  with  a  carefully  selected 
wardrobe.  Her  clothes  were  not  showy,  but  they 
were  what  you  women  call  elegant.  I  suppose  you 
will  think  it  the  foolish  whim  of  an  old  man  when 


318  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

I  tell  you  that  I  myself  interviewed  the  dressmaker 
who  fitted  Airy  out.  I  told  her  to  line  her  little 
garments  with  the  best  of  satin." 

Berty  leaned  against  the  stable  doorway  and 
laughed  long  and  irrepressibly.  "Well,  Judge,  you 
are  the  greatest  man — " 

"And  I  gave  her  a  gold  watch,"  he  went  on,  with 
twinkling  eyes — "a  very  little  one,  but  very  exqui- 
site— and  a  chain  of  wonderful  workmanship." 

"You  dear  man!"  exclaimed  Berty,  impulsively. 
"You  did  all  this  not  to  encourage  vanity,  but  to 
spare  a  child's  feelings." 

"Well,"  said  the  Judge,  modestly,  "I  did  not  plan 
to  deceive  Airy's  schoolmates,  but  the  little  witches 
had  heard  of  my  other  protegee,  Bethany,  and  her 
rich  grandfather,  so  Airy  says  they  received  her 
truthful  account  of  herself  as  the  most  absurd  kind 
of  fairy  tale.  They  shouted  with  laughter  over  her 
laconic  description  of  the  penury  to  which  she  had 
been  accustomed.  Then  she  was  received  into  the 
inner  circle  as  a  kind  of  mystery.  She  says  that  the 
girls  think  her  a  foreigner,  on  account  of  her  dark 
complexion,  and  this  opinion  is  heightened  by  her 
poor  English.  The  most  accredited  rumor  is  that 
she  is  an  Italian  princess,  stolen  from  a  magnificent 
castle  by  gypsies." 

Berty  was  convulsed  with  amusement.  "And 
how  does  Airy  take  all  this?" 

"Philosophically,"  laughed  the  Judge.  "Really 
she  is  an  astonishing  girl.  Details  don't  concern  her 
as  much  as  they  do  most  people.  She  grasps  the 
whole.  Dress  and  environment  are  secondary 
things  with  her,  things  not  to  be  disregarded,  but 


THE  ONLY  SON  OF  A  WIDOW          319 

not  to  be  overestimated.  The  primary  thing  is  to 
get  an  education.  Then  she  wishes  to  earn  money, 
and  repay  me  for  what  I  have  done  for  her,  and  also 
to  support  her  family — a  heavy  burden  for  such 
young  shoulders." 

"I  wonder  what  she  is  going  to  be  when  she 
grows  up?"  remarked  Berty,  meditatively. 

"Now  that  brings  me  to  something  that  I  wish  to 
ask  your  advice  about,"  said  the  Judge.  "Ever  since 
the  attempt  was  made  to  steal  Bethany  from  us  I 
have  been  thinking  that  I  need  some  young  person 
to  look  after  my  children — particularly  the  two  little 
girls." 

"Are  you  counting  Airy  in  the  family?"  said 
Berty,  significantly.  "I  thought  she  would  end  by 
establishing  herself  here." 

"How  can  one  defeat  such  an  ingenious  child?" 
responded  the  Judge,  frankly.  "She  began  by  call- 
ing, then  dropping  in  at  mealtimes.  Really,  she 
spent  the  most  of  her  time  here  before  she  went  to 
Miss  Featherby's,  and  I  know  that  when  holidays 
come  we  shall  have  her  altogether." 

"In  which  case  you  will  need  a  lady  housekeeper," 
said  Berty,  promptly,  "or  Airy  will  rule  you  all. 
Now  I  know  just  the  person  for  you,  Judge." 

"Who  is  it?"  he  inquired,  with  interest. 

"My  friend  Nancy  Armitage  Steele." 

"You  don't  mean  little  Nancy,  the  daughter  of  the 
late  General  Armitage?" 

"The  same,  Judge;  but  she  is  a  tall  young  mar- 
ried woman  now,  and,  unfortunately,  a  widow." 

"What!    That  child  married!" 

"Child — she  is  twenty-five  years  old." 


320  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"How  time  flies !"  said  the  Judge,  musingly.  "It 
seems  only  the  other  day  that  the  General  and  I 
were  lads  in  school.  But  how  is  it  that  his  daughter 
needs  to  support  herself." 

"Her  husband's  health  failed,  then  after  a  long 
illness  he  died.  He  left  Nancy  nothing  and  her 
father  had  left  her  nothing,  so  she  had  to  go  to 
work." 

"Poor  Armitage — I  knew  that  he  made  some  bad 
investments,  but  I  thought  he  could  leave  his  child 
a  competency.  However,  I  have  rather  lost  sight  of 
the  family." 

"Yes,  it  is  some  time  since  they  left  here.  Now, 
Judge,  don't  you  think  Mrs.  Nancy  would  preside 
charmingly  over  your  household  ?  She  is  the  sweet- 
est girl." 

"I  do,  indeed,"  said  the  Judge,  heartily,  "if  she 
would  not  be  too  much  of  a  fine  lady  to  have  a  moth- 
erly or  sisterly  care  of  the  children.  You  see,  Mrs. 
Blodgett  is  getting  old,  and  her  department  is  the 
housekeeping.  I  want  the  next  best  thing  to  a 
mother  for  those  little  girls." 

"Nancy  is  at  present  mothering  two  hundred  and 
fifty  children  in  an  orphan  asylum,"  said  Berty, 
warmly,  "and  mothering  them  so  well  that  the  board 
of  managers  has  offered  to  increase  her  salary  ever 
so  much  if  she  will  stay.  But  the  responsibility  is 
too  much  for  her.  She  is  a  great  worker,  but  she 
is  not  very  strong.  Next  week  she  is  coming  to 
visit  me.  I  know  of  several  positions  that  have 
been  offered  her,  but  I  don't  believe  she  has  any- 
thing in  view  that  would  suit  her  as  well  as  this  one 
with  her  father's  old  friend." 


THE  ONLY  SON  OF  A  WIDOW          321 

"I  shall  be  obliged  if  you  will  arrange  an  inter- 
view with  her  for  me,"  said  the  Judge,  "but  don't 
say  anything  decisive.  Twenty-five  does  not  seem 
very  young  to  you,  but  a  girl  of  that  age  appears 
like  a  child  to  me,  and  I  don't  want  to  adopt  any 
more  children." 

"You  used  not  to  be  afraid,"  replied  Berty,  smil- 
ingly. "Nancy  has  an  old  head  on  her  young  shoul- 
ders." 

"Mrs.  Everest,"  said  the  Judge,  suddenly,  "I  am 
keeping  you  in  a  draught.  Let  us  step  back  here 
and  see  the  horses." 

Berty  went  with  him ;  then,  a  sudden  thought  of 
the  baby  coming  over  her,  she  hurried  the  Judge 
into  the  house. 

Baby  had  been  good — a  perfect  angel,  and  his 
proud  young  mother  took  him  upstairs,  where  he 
fell  asleep  in  the  Judge's  study. 

The  Judge  himself  went  downtown,  and  the  tired 
Berty,  putting  down  her  head  on  the  sofa  beside 
young  Tom,  fell  asleep,  and  did  not  wake  till  Beth- 
any and  the  Judge  came  home  for  luncheon. 

After  lunch  there  was  a  long  drive  with  the 
Judge.  Baby  again  was  good,  but  upon  coming 
back  to  the  avenue  he  distinguished  himself.  Be- 
fore dinner  was  announced  he  had  successively  worn 
out  the  Judge,  his  mother,  Dallas,  Titus,  and  Beth- 
any. He  had  beaten  Higby  with  a  hearthbrush, 
pulled  out  two  of  Sukey's  tail  feathers  and  sent  her 
shrieking  out  to  the  balcony,  upset  a  bottle  of  ink 
on  the  handsome  study  carpet,  torn  leaves  out  of  a 
valuable  Shakespeare  that  he  snatched  from  the 
table,  and  generally  conducted  himself  with  such 


322  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

shameless  impropriety  that  his  young  mother  at 
last  slapped  his  hands. 

He  promptly  whipped  hers.  "Never  mind,  dear 
Judge,"  she  said,  with  an  imploring  glance  at  him. 
"After  dinner  you  will  be  rid  of  this  nightmare." 

The  Judge  smiled  cheerfully.  "I  assure  you  I 
have  not  suffered.  If  you  worry  I  shall  suffer,  so 
please  forgive  your  baby.  He  is  full  of  animal 
spirits." 

She  kissed  the  little  hands  that  she  was  holding, 
then  looked  up  as  Jennie  uttered  her  name. 

The  modest,  pretty  young  maid  stood  in  the  door- 
way and  gazed  alternatively  at  the  Judge  and  at 
Berty. 

"There's  a  lady  downstairs,"  she  said,  doubtfully. 
"She  asked  if  Judge  Sancroft  lived  here.  She  said 
she  must  see  Mrs.  Everest.  It  was  something  very 
special.  Her  name  is  Mrs.  Tralee,  and  she  has  a 
little  boy  with  her." 

Berty  gave  a  joyful  cry.  "O,  Judge,  dear  Judge, 
she  has  got  her  boy.  Come  downstairs  with  me. 
Jennie,  look  after  the  baby — I  can't  take  him  down 
in  the  parlor;  he  would  demolish  every  bit  of  bric- 
a-brac  there.  Come,  dear  Judge,"  and  seizing  his 
hand  she  drew  him  from  the  room. 

A  little,  a  very  little  woman  stood  in  the  middle  of 
the  large  parlor.  The  Judge  gazed  intently  at  her. 
Berty  had  spoken  truly  when  she  had  said  that  Mrs. 
Tralee  was  mostly  eyes  and  veil — and  what  eyes ! 

The  Judge  stepped  back.  He  felt  himself  an  in- 
truder. This  was  no  common  scene,  and  there  was 
no  formal  introduction.  The  two  women  stood  for 
an  instant  looking  at  the  little  boy  who  accompanied 


THE  ONLY  SON  OF  A  WIDOW          323 

the  lady.  Then  they  fell  on  each  other's  necks — 
that  is,  Berty  and  the  little  widow. 

There  was  a  sound  of  crying  and  kissing,  and  the 
Judge  quietly  turned  and  was  about  to  withdraw 
when  Berty  called  to  him. 

"O,  Judge,  Judge,"  she  said,  "this  is  the  boy — 
the  lost  boy.  O,  my  dear  Mrs.  Tralee,  where  did 
you  get  him.  Tell  me  about  it." 

The  strange  lady  was  gazing  in  rapt  admiration 
at  Berty,  who  had  run  to  the  little  lad  and  was  hold- 
ing his  hand  and  earnestly  looking  into  his  eyes. 

Mrs.  Tralee  turned  to  the  Judge.  "Sir,"  she  said, 
simply,  "the  only  son  of  a  widow — they  stole  him 
from  me.  But  this  dear  girl  found  him,  and  I  bought 
him.  I  bought  back  my  precious  child.  Can  you 
wonder  that  I  worship  her?" 

As  she  spoke  she  pointed  to  Berty.  Her  tone  was 
animated,  even  passionate,  and  the  Judge  nodded 
comprehendingly. 

"O,  I  am  so  tired,"  said  Mrs.  Tralee,  suddenly 
dropping  into  a  chair.  "For  weeks  I  have  scarcely 
slept  for  grief,  and  now  I  cannot  sleep  for  joy." 

Berty  turned  round  suddenly.  "You  are  coming 
right  home  with  me,"  she  said,  "and  I  am  going  to 
put  you  in  a  quiet  room  where  you  can  rest,  and  I 
will  watch  your  boy  every  minute  while  you  sleep. 
Dear  Judge,  may  we  have  a  carriage?" 

Mrs.  Tralee  sat  gazing  at  Berty  in  mute  acqui- 
escence. The  expression  in  her  eyes  was  almost 
painful,  and  the  Judge  averted  his  head.  "How 
women  suffer!"  he  murmured  to  himself,  as  he 
went  to  the  telephone  for  a  carriage.  "And  how 
they  can  comfort  each  other !" 


CHAPTER  XXVII 
MR.  HITTAKER  CALLS  ON  THE  JUDGE 

A  FEW  weeks  later  on  a  lovely  spring  day  Titus, 
hammer  in  hand,  stood  prying  open  a  box  that  had 
just  come  for  him  by  express. 

While  he  was  energetically  pulling  out  nails 
and  removing  strips  of  wood  Brick  came  loung- 
ing up  the  steps  holding  a  mayflower  between  his 
teeth. 

"Mass'  Titus,  Jennie  she  say  an  ole  gen'l'man 
jus'  come  from  New  York  want  to  see  de  Jedge." 

"  'Jedge'  has  gone  driving,"  said  Titus,  briefly. 

"Well,  but  dat  ole  genTman  won't  take  no  for 
yes.  He  says  he  mus'  see  some  one." 

"Bring  him  out  here,  then." 

Brick  hesitated.  He  had  some  idea  of  propriety, 
and  he  did  not  like  to  think  of  "young  Mass'  Titus" 
receiving  company  in  the  pigeon  loft. 

Titus  understood  him.  "Do  you  suppose  I'd  leave 
the  pigeons  ?"  he  said,  indignantly.  "They've  had  a 
hot,  tiresome  journey.  I've  got  to  feed  and  water 
them.  Bring  the  old  gentleman  out  here  if  he  can't 
wait.  If  he  can,  I'll  go  in  the  house  later." 

Brick  disappeared,  and  presently  returned,  fol- 
lowed by  a  thin,  slight,  elderly  man  who  carried 
his  hands  in  his  pockets. 

"Sorry  to  bring  you  out  here,  sir,"  said  Titus, 
politely,  "but  these  birds  are  suffering  and  I  can't 


MR.  HITTAKER  CALLS  ON  THE  JUDGE    325 

leave  them.  Will  you  sit  down?"  and  he  nodded 
toward  a  stool. 

The  gentleman  remained  standing,  and  with  a 
pair  of  remarkably  small  eyes  listlessly  surveyed 
the  roomy,  bright  pigeon  loft,  the  birds  at  the  open 
windows,  and  the  wiry,  athletic  young  figure  of 
Titus  himself. 

There  was  a  weary  sneer  on  his  face.  Titus  saw 
it,  but  unconcernedly  went  on  with  his  work. 

"What  is  the  good  of  all  these?"  said  the  stran- 
ger at  last,  and  he  withdrew  one  of  his  hands  from 
his  pocket  and  waved  it  at  the  birds. 

"O,  I  like  to  hear  them  laugh  and  talk  and  fight, 
just  the  way  we  do,"  said  Titus,  calmly. 

"Laugh  and  talk,"  repeated  the  elderly  man,  and 
he  straightened  himself  and  looked  like  one  trying 
to  force  himself  to  take  an  interest  in  some- 
thing. 

"Yes,  sir,  they  have  their  language  just  as  we 
have  ours.  Look  at  that  young  one  there.  He  is 
crying  because  his  stepfather  is  beating  him.  Here, 
stepfather,  come  away." 

The  man's  head  sank  on  his  breast.  He  seemed 
to  be  thinking  deeply,  but  Titus  shrewdly  guessed 
that  his  mind  was  not  on  the  relations  of  birds  to 
each  other. 

"Looks  as  if  he'd  had  some  trouble,"  thought  the 
boy  to  himself,  then  he  said  aloud,  "Come  in  here, 
pigeons,"  and  he  gently  guided  the  two  prisoners 
he  had  released  from  their  traveling  box  into  a  large 
cage. 

"I  always  put  strangers  in  this  cage  for  a  few 
days,"  he  remarked,  in  a  cheerful,  explanatory  way, 


326  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

"so  they  can  look  about  them.  Pigeons  hate  to  be 
rushed  into  a  crowd." 

The  stranger  roused  himself  and  gazed  at  the 
newcomers.  "What  kind  of  pigeons  do  you  call 
them?"  he  asked,  in  languid  curiosity. 

"Pouters,"  replied  Titus. 

"They  look  as  if  they  had  their  stomachs  under 
their  chins,"  said  the  elderly  man,  with  slight  ani- 
mation. "Ugly  things !" 

"They're  New  Yorkers,"  said  Titus,  slyly.  Then 
he  added,  "I  don't  think  they're  beautiful  myself, 
but  I  wanted  to  have  them.  Here,  pigeons,  have 
Some  canary  seed,"  and  he  put  a  dish  in  beside  them. 

"Where  is  your  grandfather  ?"  asked  the  stranger, 
abruptly.  "That  is,  if  you  are  Judge  Bancroft's 
grandson.  I  think  some  one  said  you  were." 

"Yes,  sir,  I  am.  My  grandfather  is  driving  with 
my  adopted  sister  Bethany." 

"Adopted  sister,"  said  his  companion,  thought- 
fully. "Is  that  the  Hittaker  child?" 

"Yes,  sir — Hittaker-Smith.  My  grandfather  had 
some  kind  of  papers  made  out.  We're  going  to  hold 
on  to  little  Bethany." 

A  heavy  shadow  passed  over  the  man's  face,  and 
Titus  thought  he  heard  him  sigh.  "I  heard  about 
her,"  he  said,  dreamily.  "They  said  kidnapers  tried 
to  steal  her." 

A  sudden  thought  flashed  into  Titus's  mind. 
"You're  not  Mr.  Hittaker,  are  you,  sir?"  he  asked, 
sharply,  and  he  stared  in  boyish  curiosity  at  his 
visitor. 

The  man  nodded  slightly.  "Yes,  yes,  my  name 
is  Hittaker." 


MR.  HITTAKER  CALLS  ON  THE  JUDGE    327 

Titus  looked  deeply  sympathetic,  and  his  eye  ran 
over  his  caller's  black  clothes.  "I  say,  sir,"  he  mur- 
mured, sympathetically,  "we  were  awfully  sorry  for 
you.  Bethany  cried  when  she  heard  about  the  little 
children  being  drowned." 

At  this  statement  Titus  lost  the  attention  of  his 
companion.  Mr.  Hittaker's  face  became  more 
dreamy.  His  mind  was  wandering  away  into  re- 
gions where  the  boy  could  not  follow  it.  He  thought 
Mr.  Hittaker  looked  ill.  He  certainly  was  in  a 
peculiar  state  mentally.  Minute  after  minute  he 
stood  silently,  his  eyes  fixed  on  vacancy. 

Titus  leaned  against  the  wall  and  watched  him. 
Finally,  just  as  his  young  limbs  began  to  ache  from 
inaction,  Mr.  Hittaker  roused  himself,  turned  to 
him,  and  said,  abruptly,  "We  were  speaking  of  your 
grandfather.  When  will  he  come  home?" 

"Probably  not  till  near  dinner  time.  It  is  such  a 
fine  day." 

"I  planned  to  take  the  seven  o'clock  train  back  to 
New  York,"  said  Mr.  Hittaker,  slowly,  "but  it 
doesn't  matter,  it  doesn't  matter." 

"Stay  all  night,  sir,"  said  Titus,  hospitably. 
"Then  you  will  have  time  to  talk  to  my  grand- 
father. But,"  he  went  on,  slowly,  "I  hope  you  are 
not  to  ask  him  for  Bethany.  It  wouldn't  be  any 
use.  We  can't  give  her  up." 

Mr.  Hittaker  stared  moodily  at  him  and  made  no 
reply. 

"My  grandfather  doesn't  think  an  awful  sight  of 
money,"  said  the  boy,  proudly. 

"Money,"  repeated  his  caller,  and  a  gleam  illum- 
inated his  small  eyes  and  sharp,  shrewd  face.  "Show 


328  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

me  the  man  that  doesn't  care  for  it,  or  the  woman, 
either." 

"Grandfather  does  care  for  it,  in  a  way,"  Titus 
went  on,  earnestly.  "He  thinks  you  can  do  a  lot 
of  good  and  be  a  great  power  in  the  world  if  you 
have  plenty  of  money,  but  he  preaches  to  us  all  the 
time  about  not  thinking  too  much  of  riches." 

"Easy  to  talk,"  replied  Mr.  Hittaker,  with  some 
show  of  interest  in  the  subject.  "If  you  were  that 
black  stable  boy  you  couldn't  have  all  this,"  and  he 
looked  about  the  well  appointed  loft. 

"Sir,"  said  Titus,  intensely,  "the  other  evening 
I  was  walking  with  grandfather.  We  passed  a  tiny 
house  in  the  suburbs.  A  boy  was  nailing  away  at  a 
box  and  whistling  like  a  good  fellow.  We  stopped 
and  spoke  to  him.  He  was  making  a  house  for  his 
rabbits  out  of  two  big  soap  boxes — and,  by  the  way, 
they  were  Hittaker  soap  boxes;  I  saw  the  name. 
When  we  left  him  my  grandfather  said,  'Do  you 
suppose  you  are  any  happier  than  that  boy  ?' 

"  'No,  sir/  I  said,  'I  don't/ 

"Then  my  grandfather  went  on :  'Don't  run  away 
with  the  idea  that  no  happiness  can  exist  in  cottages. 
The  contented  mind  makes  its  own  dwelling.' ' 

Mr.  Hittaker  gazed  in  an  uninterested  way  at  a 
box  of  sawdust.  He  was  too  old,  and  too  self-cen- 
tered, and  too  absent-minded,  to  be  moved  by  Titus's 
eloquence;  and  then,  when  he  had  been  a  boy,  he 
had  had  no  wise  grandfather  to  train  his  youthful 
mind.  A  grasping,  miserly  father  had  made  a 
grasping,  miserly  son. 

Titus  broke  off  with  a  slight  shrug  of  his  shoul- 
ders. He  was  half  pitiful,  half  inimical  to  his  vis- 


MR.  HITTAKER  CALLS  ON  THE  JUDGE    329 

itor.  "Come  into  the  house,  sir,"  he  said,  hospitably. 
"I  can  leave  these  birds  now.  Perhaps  the  time 
won't  seem  so  long  if  you  are  looking  at  grand- 
father's books." 

Mr.  Hittaker  did  not  care  for  reading.  The  most 
interesting  books  to  him  were  account  books.  How- 
ever, he  followed  Titus  willingly  enough. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 
THE  JUDGE  REVIEWS  His  FAMILY 

WEEKS  and  months  flew  by.  Spring  passed,  sum- 
mer came  and  went,  autumn  followed,  then  winter 
and  Christmas  and  the  Christmas  holidays. 

It  was  just  one  year  since  the  Judge  and  Titus 
had  found  Bethany  trotting  along  Broadway.  It 
was  considerably  over  a  year  since  the  adoption  of 
the  pigeon  princess  into  the  family,  and  she  was  now 
a  fully  matured  bird. 

She  sat  in  her  basket  by  the  fireside.  Higby  had 
just  been  in  and  carefully  arranged  the  wire  screen, 
so  that  no  sparks  from  the  wood  fire  should  fly  out 
on  her. 

Sukey  was  listening  for  the  Judge's  footstep. 
Dinner  was  over  some  time  ago.  He  ought  to  be 
coming  to  his  study. 

The  Judge,  after  dinner,  had  put  on  his  cap  and 
had  gone  out  to  the  stable.  He  wished  to  review 
his  family,  to  see  that  they  were  all  happy  and 
comfortable. 

To  his  great  satisfaction,  he  found  Roblee  and 
Brick  together.  The  old  coachman  had  brought 
the  boy  into  his  room.  He  was  teaching  him  to 
read.  Outside  it  was  cold  and  dreary.  A  wild  wind 
was  blowing,  and  the  air  was  full  of  gathering  snow- 
flakes.  Inside  Roblee's  apartment  it  was  snug  and 
comfortable.  At  a  little  table  drawn  up  under  the 
electric  light  sat  Roblee,  his  feet  on  a  coil  of  hot- 


THE  JUDGE  REVIEWS  His  FAMILY       331 

water  pipes,  his  mouth  open  nearly  all  the  time  to 
correct  Brick's  innumerable  mistakes  as  he  strug- 
gled through  the  chapters  of  Oliver  Twist. 

The  Judge  stood  at  the  door  watching  them.  "Do 
you  like  that  book,  Brick?"  he  said,  suddenly. 

The  two  inmates  of  the  room  turned  round,  then, 
seeing  who  it  was,  rose  respectfully. 

"Sit  down,"  said  the  Judge,  and  coming  into  the 
room  he  took  a  chair  himself  and  for  a  few  minutes 
talked  kindly  to  them. 

Roblee  was  certainly  much  bothered  with  Brick, 
but  he  was  certainly  much  benefited  by  having  some 
young  life  under  the  roof  with  him. 

After  the  Judge  left  his  room  he  turned  into  the 
pigeon  loft.  The  sleepy,  contented  birds  gave  him 
bright  glances. 

"You  are  out  of  the  coming  storm,"  he  mur- 
mured to  himself,  as  he  went  downstairs  to  look  at 
the  horses  and  the  cow.  When  he  emerged  from 
the  stable,  and  the  biting  wind  struck  his  face,  he 
looked  up  at  the  big,  brightly  lighted  house.  Up 
under  those  dark  eaves  he  knew  a  few  street  pigeons 
were  nestling. 

"Their  footing  is  precarious,"  he  said.  "I  will 
have  a  carpenter  come  and  make  a  better  shelter  for 
them.  I  cannot  bear  to  think  that  anything  under  my 
care  should  suffer  this  cold  weather.  Is  that  you, 
Bylow  ?"  he  went  on,  as  something  touched  his  knee. 

"Good  dog,"  and  he  stooped  down  and  patted  the 
now  respectable  member  of  society.  "Go  into  the 
stable.  It  is  too  cold  for  a  short-haired  dog  to  be 
outside,"  and  he  opened  the  door  for  him. 

As  he  turned  something  passed  his  face.     He 


332  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

heard  nothing,  but  he  knew  that  one  of  the  owls  had 
flown  by  on  its  noiseless  wings. 

"  'Frisco  and  'Mento,"  he  said,  with  a  smile," 
"having  your  night's  spin?  Well,  there  is  a  com- 
fortable box  for  you  above  when  you  get  through 
wandering,  and  you  know  it.  Strange,"  he  mur- 
mured, as  he  continued  his  way  to  the  house,  "how 
the  whole  creation  not  only  groans  together,  but 
rejoices  together,  and  is  linked  together.  I  used 
not  to  think  of  the  dumb  creatures;  but  it  is  easy 
to  go  down,  even  to  the  owls,  when  one  begins  to 
care  for  the  children.  Ah!  that  is  a  pretty  sight!" 
and  he  stopped  short  and  looked  in  the  window. 

The  curtains  were  not  drawn.  Down  in  the  little 
dining  room  for  the  servants  Martha  the  cook  and 
Jennie,  Betty,  and  old  Higby  were  seated  about  a 
blazing  fire.  Martha  was  rubbing  some  kind  of 
ointment  on  her  hands,  Jennie  and  Betty  were  sew- 
ing, and  Mrs.  Blodgett,  enthroned  in  a  big  rocking- 
chair  at  the  head  of  the  table,  was  reading  to  them 
— reading  somewhat  pompously  and  condescend- 
ingly, but  also  in  a  most  satisfactory  manner,  judging 
from  the  frequent  smiles  of  her  auditors.  Higby, 
indeed,  sometimes  transgressed  by  laughing  too 
irrepressibly,  upon  which  occasions  Mrs.  Blodgett 
interrupted  her  reading,  took  off  her  glasses,  and 
solemnly  scolded  him. 

The  Judge  came  softly  into  the  house,  so  that  he 
would  not  disturb  them,  and  passed  quietly  upstairs. 

Ah !  here  was  the  best  picture  of  all,  and  he  paused 
at  the  parlor  door. 

Mrs.  Nancy  Steele  had  arrived ;  the  Judge  had  en- 
gaged her  to  become  lady  housekeeper,  mother-in- 


333 

general,  adviser-in-chief,  and  whatever  was  needed 
to  make  a  perfect  superintendent  for  his  family. 

She  was  succeeding  admirably,  and  the  Judge 
gazed  in  intense  admiration  at  the  slender,  graceful 
figure  at  the  piano.  Mrs.  Nancy  was  charming,  very 
ladylike,  and  very  forceful,  under  a  quiet,  almost  a 
languid  exterior. 

The  children  were  charmed  with  her.  Bethany 
stood  close  to  her,  begging  her  to  sing  again.  Airy 
sat  near  by,  quiet  and  watchful,  her  eyes  glued  to 
Mrs.  Nancy's  face.  The  Judge  knew  that  both 
little  girls  adored  her,  and  he  was  delighted,  for  he 
had  given  them  the  young  widow  as  a  model. 

Airy  was  spending  a  part  of  her  Christmas  holi- 
days at  no  Grand  Avenue — the  larger  part,  the 
Judge  shrewdly  guessed  it  would  be. 

Mrs.  Steele  spoke  with  a  slight,  a  very  slight 
drawl,  and  to  the  Judge's  amusement  Airy  had 
already  acquired  this,  though  she  had  only  been  in 
the  house  a  few  days  with  her.  She  also  had  put 
on  a  black  dress,  because  she  so  much  admired  the 
young  widow's  trailing,  somber  garments. 

Dallas  and  Titus  were  playing  some  game  at  a 
little  table  and  occasionally  glancing  up  at  the  group 
by  the  piano. 

Their  faces  were  all  happy.  "Peace  and  good 
will,"  murmured  the  Judge.  "How  I  wish  my  dear 
wife  could  look  in  on  this  sight.  It  reminds  me  of 
the  happy  times  we  had  when  we  first  came  to  this 
house.  For  many  years  this  room  has  been  deso- 
late. Now  it  is  again  sanctified  by  the  presence  of 
a  good  woman  and  promising  children.  Now  if 
they  will  only  turn  out  well !  God  grant  it,  and  give 


334  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

me  grace  so  to  train  them  that  they  may  be  shining 
lights  in  this  troublous  world !"  and  casting  a  fare- 
well glance  at  the  occupants  of  the  handsome  room 
the  Judge  went  on  his  way  to  his  study. 

Sukey  was  overjoyed  to  see  him.  She  strutted 
toward  the  doorway,  spreading  her  tail  and  cooing 
with  pleasure. 

"The  only  thing  I  have  left,"  said  the  Judge, 
cheerfully ;  "that  is,  the  only  thing  under  my  special 
jurisdiction.  Mrs.  Steele  has  relieved  me  of  a  great 
weight  of  care." 

Now  he  could  spend  the  evening  after  his  own 
fashion,  safe  from  any  interruption  from  Bethany, 
or  Airy,  or  the  boys,  he  reflected,  with  a  deep  sigh 
of  satisfaction. 

But  could  he?  He  had  scarcely  opened  his  book 
when  they  were  all  hurrying  in  upon  him — the  ele- 
gant Mrs.  Nancy  drawn  on  by  impetuous  Bethany, 
and  Titus,  Dallas,  and  Airy  bringing  up  the  rear. 

"Grandfather,"  said  Titus,  imperiously;  "Dear 
Daddy  Grandpa,"  exclaimed  Bethany;  "Mr.  Judge," 
said  Airy,  solemnly;  and  "Dear  Judge,"  said  the 
young  widow,  smilingly,  "the  children  absolutely 
refuse  to  play  a  new  guessing  game  I  want  to  teach 
them  unless  you  are  in  it." 

The  Judge  took  off  his  spectacles  and  blandly 
surveyed  the  young  faces  about  him.  "Will  it  take 
long?" 

"O,  no,  sir,"  said  Dallas,  eagerly,  "I  half  know  it 
now.  We  can  easily  stop  at  Bethany's  bedtime." 

"Mrs.  Steele  says  I  may  sit  up  half  an  hour  later 
than  usual,  you  naughty  Dallas,"  interposed  Beth- 
any, resentfully. 


THE  JUDGE  REVIEWS  His  FAMILY       335 

The  Judge  smiled.  Bethany  occasionally  showed 
a  little  bit  of  temper.  Well,  she  had  been  rather 
spoiled  lately,  and  he  was  afraid  that  some  foolish 
people  had  been  talking  to  her  about  her  rich  grand- 
father. 

He  had  had  rather  a  trying  interview  with  Mr. 
Hittaker.  In  the  first  place,  being  two  men  so  abso- 
lutely unlike,  they  had  found  no  common  ground  on 
which  to  stand.  Then  Mr.  Hittaker  had  been  pain- 
fully absent-minded.  It  had  been  almost  impossible 
to  induce  him  to  concentrate  his  attention  on  the 
subject  of  Bethany,  though  it  was  for  the  purpose 
of  talking  about  her  that  he  had  come  to  see  the 
Judge. 

He  evidently  was  not  much  interested  in  her.  All 
the  mind  and  heart  that  he  had  seemed  to  have  been 
buried  with  his  dead  daughter  and  her  children. 
However,  before  leaving,  he  gave  the  Judge  to  un- 
derstand that  he  regarded  Bethany  as  the  only 
remaining  member  of  his  family  besides  himself, 
and  in  the  event  of  his  death  she  would  receive  what 
property  he  had  to  leave. 

He  had  at  one  time  in  their  interview  expressed 
a  desire  that  Bethany  should  come  to  New  York  to 
live  with  him. 

This  desire  the  Judge  kindly  but  promptly  told 
him  could  not  be  gratified.  Inwardly  he  added  a 
resolve  that  not  for  all  the  wealth  of  the  Union 
would  he  deliver  Bethany  up  to  the  training  of  so 
self-centered  a  man. 

Mr.  Hittaker  did  not  seem  to  feel  disappointed. 
Indeed,  so  strange  a  state  of  mind  had  he  been  in 
that  he  had  not  even  asked  to  see  the  child.  It  was 


336  PRINCESS  SUKEY 

the  Judge  who  suggested  having  her  come  in  the 
room. 

He  had  expressed  a  little  curiosity,  though,  on 
the  subject  of  her  kidnapers,  and  had  shown  some 
satisfaction  after  hearing  that  Smalley  and  the  two 
women  were  serving  long  terms  of  imprisonment. 
The  Judge  told  him  that  everything  was  being  done 
to  influence  them  for  good. 

"Daddy  Grandpa!"  said  Bethany,  stroking  his 
hand. 

The  Judge  called  back  his  wandering  thoughts. 
While  he  had  been  busy  with  his  reminiscences  Mrs. 
Steele  and  the  children  were  waiting.  "Certainly, 
certainly,  my  dears,"  he  said,  "I  will  play  your 
game  with  you.  Shall  we  go  downstairs  ?" 

Airy  was  for  returning  to  the  parlor.  She  liked 
pomp  and  ceremony.  "No,  no,"  said  Bethany,  when 
the  Tingsby  girl  remarked  in  a  stilted  voice,  "The 
parlor  is  more  agreeable." 

"No,  no,"  the  child  went  on,  "here  in  the  study 
with  Daddy  Grandpa  and  Sukey.  It  is  more  cozy." 

They  all  seated  themselves  about  the  fire,  and  Mrs. 
Steele  began  the  guessing  game. 

Princess  Sukey,  in  her  basket,  lifted  her  hooded 
head  and  with  a  wise  look  surveyed  her  circle  of 
friends.  Her  greenish-yellow  eyes  rested  longest 
on  the  beloved  white  head.  There  was  the  leader 
of  the  family  and  her  chief  friend,  and  his  benev- 
olent eyes,  taking  in  the  happy  faces  of  the  group 
about  him,  did  not  forget  to  rest  occasionally  on  the 
little  creature  who  loved  him,  though  she  was  only 
a  bird. 

THE  END. 


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